


Once Upon A Future

by allonsysilvertongue



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Hayffie AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-23 00:11:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 36,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6098473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsysilvertongue/pseuds/allonsysilvertongue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If the present couldn't make them love each other, maybe the future will. [A time travel Hayffie AU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Living The Present And Into The Future

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a simple, dumb one-shot of hayffie time travelling into the future which I posted on Tumblr and ff.net but because people liked it and I had some request to continue it, I decided to expand the story. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this and let me know what you think of it :)

** Leaving The Present and Into The Future **

The rapid rate in which technology had progressed in Panem was both wonderful and alarming. The programs which allowed for weathers to be replicated and thus, controlled in the Capitol were not something Haymitch particularly liked.

Beetee created devices that he released to President Snow, and some which he hoard to himself like the one that could scramble signals so that they could talk without the Capitol eavesdropping. There were times when Haymitch wondered if Beetee was actually pushing boundaries because the device he was currently working on would have catastrophic consequences in the wrong hands.

"It's a watch. Nothing fancy, nothing that will rouse the Capitol's suspicious. It can do so much," Beetee grinned, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I think I did it, Haymitch. Time and space can be manipulated and bent."

"Wha - What's the mean?"

"Moving between different points in time – backwards and forwards, past and future."

"That's fucking crazy. And I thought I'm the one who's drunk," he laughed, taking another drink as he lounged lazily on the sofa.

"You don't believe me but I can show you," Beetee said eagerly. "An hour into the future and you'll know what I mean but let's keep this between you and I, for now."

Before he realised what was happening, Beetee had already slapped the silver watch around his wrist and was fixing the band.

"Has it ever occurred to you that just because you can do something, it doesn't mean you should," Haymitch murmured.

The timing on his watch was set and he felt a sudden tug in his chest that caused him to sit up straight. Beetee was no longer where he was moments ago and Haymitch was not at District Three's apartment but at the Penthouse watching himself in an argument with Effie Trinket.

It all happened in a split second because he choked and panicked, and pressed down the red button on his watch to reset the clock. He was back on the sofa with Beetee grinning at him in the present time.

The drunken haze lifted, making him quite alert. His eyes darted all around him as his mind tried to make sense of what just happened. He was still incoherent when Effie walked in at that moment wearing the same clothes he saw her an hour into the future. He stared at her as if he had never seen her before.

"Judging from the look on your face, my friend, it worked," Beetee leaned forward so only Haymitch could hear him, his voice triumphant.

Neither he nor Beetee realised that he left District Three's apartment for the Penthouse with the watch still attached to his wrist.

The argument with Effie that he already knew was coming turned out to be much worse as the minutes dragged by. She had already tried to slap him twice and he was quickly losing his patience. On the third try, he pinned her to wall and he could feel her breasts heaving against his.

"You are insufferable and rude, and you have absolutely no respect for me at all," she shrieked, her blue eyes bright with anger.

"I have no respect?" He taunted her. "You're the one who's been tryin' to slap me, Trinket. You've got a pole so far up your ass that - "

"Don't be so vulgar," she spat at him as she continued to struggle. "You're hurting me!"

He wasn't one to hurt woman as a rule so he loosened his hold on her slightly. Effie seized the chance and freed her hand. She grabbed his wrist where the watch was and pulled on it hard, intending to distract him enough by letting him think she was about to destroy his new watch.

Haymitch heard something clicked and before any of them could register what it meant, there was a violent tug, as if the world had been wrenched free from under their feet. He felt his stomach lurched, the same feeling one would get when dropped from a certain height. Effie was gasping for breath and he had to tilt her head up before she choke but he was struggling too, feeling as if he was being squeezed and pulled at the same time. Her face had contorted into a mask of pain, her eyes squeezed shut and he shook her lightly.

Then it stopped as suddenly as it began. Whatever it was, it was over. For now, at least.

"Haymitch?

He had an arm around her waist, holding her upright. Effie might be a thorn at his sides and they were constantly at each other's throat but he didn't want her hurt.

"Breathe," he instructed. "Can you breathe?"

The clicking sound was gone and what replaced it was a soft whirring which was coming from his wrist. He looked at the watch with its cracked screen. The numbers on it was changing at a speed that was making it dizzy before it flashed once and a number remained on the screen – thirty five.

His fingers curled on her hipbone by reflex as he swallowed, trying to steady himself. He felt nausea and dizzy, and he was certain she felt the same although, there was another reason his heart was in his throat.

_Thirty-five._

He knew what it could possibly mean but he was fervently hoping he was wrong. He couldn't have moved from one point in time to another with Effie Trinket. That would be a disaster and thirty five could mean anything; thirty five minutes, thirty five hours, thirty five weeks or worse, years.

"What on earth just happened?" Effie demanded.

"No idea."

"Oh, why did I think you'd know," she grumbled irritably, fixing him with a look. "We are going to be late and it will be entirely your fault. Arguing with you has already probably taken quite a bit of time from the schedule. Oh, I do hate you so, Haymitch. Hurry now, we must get going. Sponsors hate it when we're late for a meeting."

Sometimes, he wasn't sure if Effie Trinket was foolish or simply just stubborn. Six years of being his escort should have taught her that no one would sponsor District Twelve and that chasing after sponsors was a waste of time but she just refused to give up.

"Something's not right," he muttered to himself just as Effie stopped short from walking away from him.

It was a comical sight to see her tilt her head to the side, taking in her surroundings with a hand poised in mid-air. She spun around to face him.

"Where are we? We were just as the Penthouse. We were just – Is this your house? _That_ ," she pointed to the curtains hanging by the window, "wasn't there when I came for the Reaping a week ago. This makes no sense," she let out a breath.

"I think you're right. This is my house," he said slowly as his eyes swept through the room.

Ever since the world stopped feeling as if has been pulled from under him, he had been trying to figure out where he was. There is something so achingly familiar about this place and yet, things seemed different at the same time.

"How can I be at a place one second and someplace else in the next? Haymitch," she gave a high pitch laugh and he knew that any second now she would lose her composure. "This... This joke you're playing is _not_ funny. It is not so I suggest you cease this at once and - "

Haymitch grabbed her hand and pulled her down with him. It was, unfortunately, one of the worst hiding spots but there was no time to find another before they were spotted. They remained crouching behind a sofa which admittedly, he couldn't remember owning.

The approaching footsteps grew louder as it entered the room before it stopped a few steps away from them.

"I know, Mama. I'll be back for dinner."

"Who is that and why are we hiding?" Effie hissed. "You realise how silly this is, I hope!"

"Shut up, Trinket."

Haymitch peered over the top of the sofa to see a tall girl with flowing blonde hair reaching past her shoulders dressed in a skin tight jeans and oversized blouse. He blinked and glanced down at Effie next to him. Unless his eyes were deceiving him, that girl looked a lot like his escort.

_Who is she? What is she doing in my house?_

The girl was completely oblivious to their presence as she grabbed her things from the coffee table and dumped them in her bag, humming a tune under her breath. On her wrist, as slender as Effie's, was a gold bangle.

"My grandmother used to sing that song to me before I sleep," Effie whispered, kneeling next to him to watch the girl.

That information was certainly new to him and he filed it away. They weren't in a habit of discussing about their personal lives so Haymitch said nothing.

"Willow and Rye is gonna join us for dinner," the girl said over her shoulder. "I hope you haven't forgotten. Aunt Katniss and Uncle Peeta talked to you about it, yeah?"

"She talks like you do," Effie commented. "All that abbreviations with a 'yeah' at the end of a sentence... I supposed it is a District Twelve trait."

"Of course, I remember. I am not your father. Don't you worry, darling," a woman, he presumed to be the mother, answered her.

"Darling is _not_ a District Twelve thing," Haymitch pointed out. "Sounds like something you'd say, very Capitol."

"And please don't forget to pick up the milk on your way home, Aria," the woman continue. "I can never rely on your father to do something as simple as that."

The girl snickered and they held their breath as she walked past them towards the front door. It was only when they heard it close behind her that they dared to stand.

"Her mother... She sounds," Effie frowned, "familiar."

"Like this damn house," he muttered as he walked around the sofa to the coffee table.

He plucked the newspaper and cursed loudly the moment his eyes fell on the date. Startled by his reaction, Effie was soon standing next to him but where the panic was slowly rising in him, she was strangely calm.

"There is a mistake in the printing."

"Don't think so," he grimaced. This would be the good time to break it to her. "Listen, Trinket, what I'm going to tell you... You don't scream, you hear me. You keep very, very quiet."

"What is it?"

"I think," he inhaled, "we're thirty five years into the future."

"I beg your pardon?"

He repeated himself. The second time didn't sound any better to his ears.

If he knew, he would have warned her not to scream _or_ laugh. Of all the reaction she could have to _"I think Beetee's watch made us travel into the future_ " she chose to laugh in his face. He covered her mouth with his hand all the while glaring at her.

"There's someone in this house. She might hear you," he growled. "Don't be so fuckin' stupid, will you?"

"Stupid? Might I remind you that I wasn't the one stupid enough to wear something as dangerous as that dreadful watch on his wrist," she hissed once she managed to get rid of the hand covering her mouth. "Give that watch to me!"

"Fuck no," he raised his hand above her head, out of her reach and moved back only to knock his legs against the coffee table and lose his balance. The vase rattled against the glass surface and the watch hit against the glass. The cracked screen of the watch shattered.

"Haymitch, is that you?"

They froze, staring at each other.

"How does – How does she know your name?" Effie asked. "If we've gone forward, wouldn't this be your future house and... Who is that? Oh! Do you think you've moved out? I thought Victors stay for life in - "

"I don't have the answers to all your questions, Trinket," he snapped in irritation. "We need to get out of here."

"No," Effie shook her head vehemently. "If it's true what you said, then we need help. It is fortunate that she knows who you are. We can ask her to assist us."

"Are you out of your mind?" he hissed at her. "We can't let anyone know we're here. Beetee said something 'bout a butterfly effect – whatever you do and who you interact with will have an effect one way or another. How do you think we're gonna explain to someone 'bout this whole fucking thing. _'Hello, lady, you seem to know me but I'm not really who you think I am. I'm from the fucking past.'_ Do you realize just how insane that sound?"

"Yes," she retorted, "as insane as you telling me that we're in the future! Why don't you stop and consider that perhaps time travelling is already the norm for them and they can help us?"

"I'm not taking any chances."

"Suit yourself. The watch is broken now thanks to you and if that's how we came to be here, that must be the only way out. Now, how do you propose we get back to our own time?" She challenged. "I am going to find me."

"No."

"I will definitely help myself and you, for that matter, because it is the only polite thing to do and she knows... I mean, _I_ know it... Or is it a 'we' in this case?" She frowned, finding the situation confusing. "No matter, the point is, there will be help. Besides, this is a rare opportunity to see how I am doing for myself."

"Yeah?" He crossed his arm. "And what if you can't find yourself 'cause you're dead in this timeline?"

That thought startled her and he couldn't help a smirk. Effie Trinket who grew up sheltered in the Capitol had never considered her own mortality.

"I will only just be sixty," she said, dejected. "Well… Since we know you're still alive, we should find you."

"I will try to kill me. That's for sure. I don't take kindly to surprises."

"Well, then, what are we going to do? Should we follow the girl? She might help. We don't know who she is and she probably has no idea who we are. We can just pose as two –"

"That woman knows a Haymitch which from the looks of where we are is most likely me thirty five years from now so, yeah, sweetheart, I think you can bet the girl will know me. We've got to find some other way. Come on," he turned and beckoned for her to follow. "We have to get out of – "

Haymitch stared at the photo frames lining the mantelpiece. Next to him, he heard her gasp loudly, felt her hand clutch his own and gripping it tight, her nails digging into his skin. He couldn't even bring himself to pull away because the pain reminded him of the reality of the situation.

"That's you and that's... me," he caught himself stating the obvious.

"That girl… She's the girl we saw earlier. Aria's her name," Effie raised her head to look at him. "Is she… Are we… Oh my goodness, this is a nightmare. We can't be - This is a nightmare."

"Thank you, that's fuckin' kind of you," he grumbled.

"She called her 'mum'. We have a child together," Effie said, her voice rising up a notch. "That woman we heard is me. There is no other explanation. I am alive after all! Don't tell me this isn't surprising to you!"

"That you're alive or that we've got a child together? Because, yeah, sweetheart, I'm fucking surprise 'bout having a girl. I don't even want to know how we're a family in this timeline."

"Well, clearly, in the future, we're sleeping together. That's how babies are made and please, do mind your language! I definitely hope we are married because the social ramifications of carrying your illegitimate child…" she shuddered. "I will kill you. Why would I have a child with you?"

He snorted. "You're really the last person I want to marry, Trinket. Don't take it personally though, I ain't the marrying kind."

"That must be me, Haymitch," she repeated. "That woman talking to Aria earlier… I have to go see me," she said and before he could do anything to stop her, Effie was already walking towards where they heard the voice.

"Come back here," he called out. "I mean it, Trinket, if you don't - "

Effie stood frozen in the hallway at the sight before her. He understood what had her rooted to the spot. Even he was blown away. The Effie before them – _the future Effie,_ his mind was quick to make the distinction – was in the kitchen with her back to them doing the dishes and like Aria, was completely unaware of the two strangers in her house.

She was wearing a simple blue dress with her natural honey blonde hair pinned to the top of her head. The radio was playing quietly in the background to fill up the silence and her hips swayed lightly to the music.

"I can't picture you like that," he commented, moving forward to stand behind Effie.

"I can't picture me like that, either," she agreed. "I seem … That person doesn't seem at all like me but it _is_ me. I just... look very much at home, like I belong here."

Both Effie, present and future, jumped a little when the back door swung open with a bang. They heard someone stomping on their boots on the door mat before the said person lumbered into the kitchen.

"Got two more eggs, sweetheart," a gruff voice said and Haymitch knew without having to see who it was to know that that person was him. It was him in the future. "The goose laid two more. Supposed I can get Rye to sell this at the market or somethin'. You won't want any more goslings, do you?"

Haymitch steered Effie away from the hallway behind a wall where they could keep an eye on the other occupants without being seen.

"Absolutely not, Haymitch, you have enough as it is," the future Effie answered, drying her hand on the dish towel.

What she did next made Effie gasp. She leaned forward and gave a peck on the future Haymitch's lips who responded to it eagerly.

" _That_ 's strange," Haymitch blinked, swiping his thumb against his bottom lip. "That's fucking strange."

"I would say so myself."

"Wonder how you taste like," he murmured. That statement was so unexpected that Effie was caught off-guard, wondering if he had ever thought about it before today. "I ain't dreaming am I, Trinket?"

"Oh, goodness, we're -"

She was at a loss for words and gestured helplessly.

"Not sure which is worse, walking in on my parents kissing or watching myself making out with you," Haymitch said as the scene unfolded before his eyes.

Still, the sight captivated his attention, forcing him to watch as his future-self curled his fingers on the nape of Effie's neck. His eyes drifted to Effie's neck, the one from his time. By the time he raised his gaze back to the other two, the older Haymitch had already deepened the kiss, his free hand slipping under the hem of her dress. The Effie from the future laughed into the skin on his neck as her arms came up to wound around him.

His skin prickled when it struck him that those two were used to that. The way they behaved around each other was normal for them.

_That Haymitch is happy._

"Uncle Haymitch! Mum says – Ugh gross. Why are you _always_ kissing?"

"That's to teach you to knock on the damn door, Rye," his future-self growled at the boy as he discreetly pulled his hand out from under Effie's dress. "The eggs are over there."

"M'kay. Mum and Dad sent me off early to you 'cause they don't wanna be late to meet Uncle Plutarch. So... Here I am!"

"Plutarch? Did he say Uncle Plutarch?" Haymitch whispered. "As in Plutarch Heavensbee, Junior Gamemaker?"

"That's the only Plutarch that I know of," Effie nodded. "We are... It would seem that we are friendly with him in the future. What a strange time. Who is this boy, I wonder? Did you catch his last name?"

"Katniss' and Peeta's kid," he answered, remembering what Aria had said earlier. "I've no damn clue who they are."

The name was somewhat familiar to him so he had his suspicion. Aspen Everdeen, if he recalled correctly, had once told him his daughter's name. From his calculation, in this timeline, Katniss could very well be her. She would be old enough to have children of her own.

_Rye could be Aspen's grandson. He's here with me in my house. What happened to his grandfather? Why is he with me?_

His head was spinning because ever since his Games, Aspen and him had drifted apart. If in the future, his grandson was close to him, he wondered if against all odds, they had somehow managed to mend things between them.

"Can you tell me more about the war, Uncle Haymitch?" the boy continued as he walked towards the living room, narrowly passing by the place where Haymitch and Effie were hiding. "Last week you said you'll tell me about how you got Mum and Aunt Effie to District Thirteen during the Third Quarter Quell."

Haymitch's eyebrows shot up. "The future is a confusing place. District Thirteen? Come on…"

"No, Haymitch, _listen_ ," Effie chided. "He's talking about the Third Quarter Quell, that's ten years from where we are now. We're in the 65th Games. Something is happening or going to happen in ten years' time."

They exchanged a look with at each other.

"A war," they both said at the same time.

"We'll have time for that later," said his future-self. "You wanna tell me how much you plan on selling those eggs?"

"They're in the living room," Haymitch pointed out. "We've got to move now."

She nodded and they slipped out of their hiding place. They poke their heads into the living room to make certain that all three occupants were accounted for and Haymitch stilled. He was struck by how domestic the scene looked to him, how much different his life turned out to be.

He wasn't the only one harbouring those thoughts because Effie laid a gentle hand on his arm.

"Something must have happened to us between now and thirty five years in the future. Look at the way I am looking at you," Effie pointed to herself in the living room. "That Effie loves him. You can see it in her eyes. _My_ eyes," she whispered. "That is me. That will be me and … and you."

Haymitch swallowed because he could see it too. It felt odd to know in the future, he would be loved by someone. He noticed the way his future-self smiled at Effie. The revelation that somehow those two shared something special between them, something that he did not yet have with the Effie standing next to him was surprising, and it gave him a sort of thrill to find out about it. What could he share with a Capitol escort other than a mutual experience of being involved in the Games?

They were so caught up in it that neither of them noticed that they had been lingering for far too long in the open. The future Effie glanced up, the smile frozen on her lips the moment she locked gaze with the younger version of herself.

"Oh, shit," Haymitch breathed.

 


	2. Hello Haymitch, I'm Mr. Abernathy

** Chapter 2: Hello, Haymitch, I'm Mr. Abernathy. **

If they could travel through time, then it wouldn't be a stretch to assume that time could also be frozen because right at that moment, it surely felt like it had.

Haymitch was rooted to the spot as was Effie. The future Effie, however, blinked once, twice and then promptly turned to address the child in the room as if she had not just seen herself and a younger Haymitch standing in the hallway of her house.

“Rye, darling,” the future Effie brushed a hand through the boy’s hair. “Aria recently purchased a stack of books. It’s in her room. Shall we browse through them?”

Together, they rose to their feet and Haymitch ducked, pulling Effie under a small alcove to let them pass without the boy noticing them. When they emerged, Effie was breathing hard.

“She saw us,” her fingers curled on his wrist. It was the second time today that she voluntarily touched him to seek comfort “You said it’s important we’re not spotted. Beetee told you about an effect. Wasn’t that what you told me? But she did! What is going to happen now? What is going to happen to our future?”

“Alright, sweetheart, you need to calm down,” he gripped her arm and whispered out of the corner of his mouth. He did a sweeping glance over the house – _his_ house – as he tried to figure a way out. “I haven’t seen me yet so that’s something at least. Breathe, just breathe.”

“You’d think so but you’re dead wrong. I haven’t seen you, sure, but I know you’re both there,” a familiar voice chuckled.

Effie squealed, taken aback by his presence.

Haymitch’s first instinct was to push Effie behind him, using his own body as a shield and a second later, he wondered why because he seriously doubt his future self would harm Effie, present or past.

The Haymitch in the future stepped into the light just then and he must be thinking the same because there was an amused smirk on his face as his eyes shifted from him to Effie behind him.

They look similar except for the few strands of grey in his future self’s hair. His eyes were brighter, not dulled by alcohol and not red from the lack of sleep. Physically, he appeared healthier; more flesh to his bones and his clothes seemed well taken care off. Haymitch assumed that if one live with Effie Trinket, clean clothes were unavoidable.

“Should we shake hands?” his future-self extended a hand towards him, the smirk still firmly in place.

“I – I do not think it wise for us to be talking,” Effie spoke up. “Butterfly effect…”

“How old are you?” Haymitch narrowed his eyes at himself. “66, yeah?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” the future Haymitch nodded. “You’re what – 31? 65th Games…. Finnick’s year, right?”

Effie’s eyes widened at that. “Finnick… That’s Mag’s boy. Four wins, Haymitch. Four is going to win.”

"Damn it,” the older man cursed loudly. “Shit, I shouldn’t have said that. Forgot it happened before the crowning.”

Since Haymitch certainly wasn’t expecting their tributes to win he was over the news pretty quickly. What was disconcerting was the lack of shock and disbelief that both their future selves exhibited.

“Are you expectin’ us?” Haymitch demanded. “You ain’t surprise that we’re here at all.”

“Why would I be surprised? I've lived _your_ life. I was there standin' where you are standin' thirty five years ago. I mean if you fucked up between now and then, and change the future or in my case, my past as I knew it, then yeah, I'd be surprised."

Haymitch wondered if this was how Effie often felt – frustrated, annoyed and ready to walk away - when she had to deal with him because right this second, he found _him_ smug and difficult.

“My head is spinning,” Effie announced. “This is too much.”

Future Haymitch's eyes fell on Effie and his gaze softened.Haymitch frowned, feeling slightly uncomfortable because he was sure he would never look at Effie _that_ way.

"Okay, right, clearly this has happened to you so how do we get home?"

"Why are you in such a rush, kid?"

"Don't call me that," Haymitch snapped and immediately, he felt foolish because if he had used 'sweetheart' to annoy Effie the first time they met, his future-self was one and the same, and _he_ was using that moniker to rile him up, and the smirk on the older man's face was proof of that.

 "Isn't your watch broken? We'll need to –  Got him distracted?"

"What?" Haymitch asked.

"Not you. Her," future Haymitch said and a second later, Effie rounded the corner.

"He's reading," the older Effie answered.

Haymitch and Effie exchanged a glance. It was disconcerting to him to know that in the future, he would be quite aware of Effie's coming and going.

"When you've lived with someone for years, you get used to them," his future self winked. "Your heels when you were still wearing them," he addressed Effie, "made so much noise, I learnt to tell when you were coming. I learnt the sound your feet make against the floor, the rhythm of your walk."

 _That,_ he thought, wasn't a complete lie. After six years of working with her, he could tell from the way the heels clicked against the floor if it was Effie coming towards him. He just hadn't realised that he had unconsciously learnt it.

"That would explain all the times you suddenly disappeared from your room," Effie spoke to him and he shrugged in response.

"Hello," the future Effie flashed them a polite smile as she approached them. "You must have had quite a journey. I should know, and of course, Haymitch, doesn't have the manners in him to invite you to have a seat. Please," she gestured towards the living room sofa, "make yourself at home."

Effie was unnerved by it all. Rude as it was, she stared at the older version of herself who pursed her lips and refrained from pointing it out.

"I apologise if this is terribly rude but… Why did you have a child with him? Was it planned?" Effie asked, the question came tumbling out of her lips as she sat primly on the edge of the sofa.

"Clearly not," future Effie said.

It was an answer that sent Effie's hand flying to her throat, as if she was choking on the atrocity and one that made him curled his fingers into a fist, nails digging into the flesh of his palm.

"Don't scare her, sweetheart," his future-self chuckled. "Or him. Go do something useful and call Beetee. Tell him it's already happened and he's got to fix the watch. You," he turned towards Haymitch, "where's the watch?"'

Haymitch released a breath. At least Beetee's alive and he wouldn't be stuck here with this domesticated, infuriating version of himself, not that he thought settling down and having family was a horrible thing but he had resigned himself to a life of solitude, and everything was so surreal.

"The watch?"

His hand slipped into the pocket of his pants where he kept the watch and then he hesitated.

"Give it to him, Haymitch," Effie said quietly. "He can help us."

He probably could but the problem was, he didn't trust himself. He never did. How could he when he was supposed to protect his mother, his brother and his girl only to fail them? He couldn't even control his drinking. Each time he said one bottle, he finished one more, and each time he told himself he would try to help the tributes, he would take one look at them and knew that they would never win.

And he was a cynic, which didn't help matter.

"What if he only wants the watch for himself?" Haymitch asked, not even bothering to lower his voice.

"Why would I need it for? You think I want to go back to the past where you’re from? That wasn’t a good period. My life’s better now than it was thirty-five years ago, and I don’t want the watch to go forward either so you can quit worryin’. You want my help or not?”

“Why won’t you use it?” Haymitch challenged. “Do you know what this can do? You can go back, save people, save _them._ ”

The future Haymitch gave a derisive chuckle.

“You think it’s that easy?”

“It doesn’t work that way,” the future Effie told him, joining them once again. “Doing that, saving people who have passed, will alter the course of the future. You wouldn’t be who you are today if he were to go back and save your family.”

“Our family,” Haymitch muttered. “We’re talking ‘bout Ma and Lief. You can’t just sit there and do nothin’.”

Effie watched the exchange between the three of them. She knew enough to keep up with the conversation but not enough to be a party to it. His family was gone, executed as a form of punishment, but the details of their demise were not something she was privy to. She supposed she would know eventually, sometime in the future.

“I can’t undo it. It could be a fixed point in time, something that’s not meant to be changed. The world don’t know much ‘bout time travel to understand what’ll happen if you stop someone from meeting their death. They’re gone and they ain’t coming back. We can’t cheat.”

Something roared inside him, something ugly. He lost his family nearly fourteen years ago and he had learnt to deal with it, but now that there was a way for him to do something, he couldn’t be expected to sit here and accept their deaths. It made the wound in his heart bleed again and it dredged up the pain of losing them to the surface.

Haymitch clenched his jaws and fixed his other self with a look of loathing. The older Haymitch held his gaze.

“Listen here, Hay – “ he stumbled over his own name, momentarily blindsided by how he should address … himself.

 His blunder was clearly a source of amusement to the future Haymitch because he snorted.

“You haven’t changed at all. You are insufferable,” Effie told his future self. “He’s talking about your family.”

“I cannot go against the law of nature. This,” the future Haymitch gestured at them, “is already unnatural.”

“Let’s all calm down,” Effie’s future-self tried to mediate. “He is right. Every action has an effect, and we don’t know the ripple it might cause.”

Haymitch leaned back and breathed deeply. They were not wrong. Difficult as it was, he forced himself to push the possibility out of his mind and focused on the problem at hand. He turned towards his older self and opened his mouth to speak before he closed it again.

“Calling you Haymitch doesn’t feel right,” he said. “It’s … I am Haymitch.”

Effie turned her head towards him, trying to fight a smile off her face.

“I understand the confusion it will cause. If I may make a suggestion,” the future Effie ventured to say. “Perhaps, you may call him Mr. Abernathy and you may address me as Mrs. Abernathy. We shall call you by your given name. That will do, yes?”

That information sent Effie into a state and he felt the air leave his lungs. They had their suspicion but to hear a confirmation from Effie’s future self was still surprising.

_I am… I will be married to Effie Trinket._

He stood up and started pacing.

“Mrs. Abernathy?” Effie sputtered. " _Me?_ Oh, dear no. Haymitch… Haymitch," she grabbed his hand as he walked in front of her. "Did you hear that? Did you?”

“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Why did you marry him? Did mother force you to because of that unplanned pregnancy? Did I ruin my own life?”

“Nobody forced me to do anything,” the future Effie answered, looking appalled at the question. “I married him because I love him.”

“Well, shit,” Haymitch breathed. “The fucking future has done a complete turnaround. I thought nothin’ in this world can surprise me anymore but,” he chuckled derisively, “what the fuck, right?”

“Language,” future Effie clicked her tongue in disapproval.

“This is just a dream. This is just a dream,” he heard Effie mumbled to herself. “I will wake up in the bed, in the Penthouse and this will all be a dream.”

Haymitch rolled his eyes. “You’d rather wake up to the Games than knowing we’re married in the future, huh? Should have known.”

“You should watch your tone. Don’t talk to her that way,” Mr. Abernathy said after being quiet all these while.

“What is it to you?” Haymitch demanded. “ _She_ ain’t your wife.”

“She will be,” Mr. Abernathy shrugged. “And I don’t let people talk to Effie like that.”

“I – Thank you,” Effie raised her head and offered future him a small smile.

"Remember when we disliked each other?" Mrs. Abernathy said to her husband, her eyes twinkling in amusement. “The worst of it, Effie, is that you fall first.”

“Oh sweet heavens,” Effie’s breathe hitched. “Please, wake me up. I can't be married to him!"

"Why the hell not?" he retorted, feeling slighted by it. _What was so terrible about him? As if Trinket’s any better._ "You're the one who said we better be fuckin' married if you're carrying my bastard child."

No sooner had the words left his mouth, caught completely unaware, he found himself being hauled and thrown backwards with a hand around his throat.

His future self would not hurt Effie, called him out for the way he talked to her but he clearly had no qualms about physically attacking him and for a sixty-six years old man, he was surprisingly strong.

"If you ever speak about my daughter that way again, Haymitch, you _will_ regret it."

Haymitch raised his eyes to see the anger reflecting in his future self's – _Mr. Abernathy’s,_ he corrected himself – eyes. That man was not joking. There was something fierce burning in the depths of those grey eyes, something caring and defensive.

 _Protective,_ the word came to his mind. He would be a protective father and he thought it was wise not to anger that man any further.  

"Alright," he gasped. "Alright, ran my mouth, didn't mean it."

Effie rushed towards him and remained close by him. "Are you okay?"

"Fine."

"I think you shouldn't insult our future daughter," she advised. "It's rude."

He glared at her but he wasn’t in the mood to argue with her. He ran a hand over his face. "This place is insane, Trinket."

"I know. I'm having a difficult time understanding _us_. Maybe... Let's just give them the watch so they can send us back home and everything will be back to normal."

“Normal… Yeah,” he nodded. “Back to the time where we insult each other… That makes sense to me, not… Not this,” he shot the couple a look.

"We still do that you know," Mrs. Abernathy told him. "We do argue. It doesn't mean we stop arguing just because we’re married. It’s just different what we argue about now."

"Now, there's the make-up sex as perks," Mr. Abernathy added and winked at his wife.

Effie schooled her face to remain impassive at the very idea of them having sex and Haymitch, even if he had the sudden thought of getting Effie out of the dress she was currently wearing, was torn between wanting to walk out and having a deep respect for his older self.

If he were being entirely honest, Effie Trinket was better than the other escorts. For all her flaws, she was kind, selfish sometimes, but she always tries with him and the tributes, _and_ hot, too.

He eyed her long legs before forcing his gaze back to the others.

“What made you marry the Capitol escort?” he asked, as if that would cancel all the thoughts he just had about Effie.

“Don’t kid yourself. You and I both know she’s different than the others. The old goat is nothin’ like her is she?” his future self said, referring to his previous escort.

“I think you are mistaken, Mr. Abernathy,” Effie said. “Haymitch has told me on countless occasions since we first met that I am just like the rest of the Capitol.”

“He does think you’re different. He … Or rather, I’ve just never told you that until later.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haymitch isn't the 40/41 years old Haymitch we met in the hunger games. He is ten years younger in this and at the same time so much older. What did you think of their present future selves meeting each other


	3. Sharing A Bed

**Chapter 3: Sharing A Bed**

Haymitch led the way but it was Effie's hand on his arm that made him slow down and fell back.

"I know you know where the rooms are but it's _their_ house now," she spoke to him quietly, "so let them show it to you."

"I am terribly sorry about this," Mrs. Abernathy apologised to them over her shoulder as they climbed the stairs up to the second floor, "but the children will be home soon. Anyway, here you are. You can spend the night here."

"You can't be fuckin' serious," Haymitch said with a frown. "There's another room. Trinket can stay there."

"That's Aria's room," Mrs. Abernathy informed him.

"You've gotta to learn to share, kids," the future Haymitch told them nonchalantly. "Might as well get used to having a room together. It's gonna be that way for you before long."

Haymitch stared. He couldn't possibly be _this_ annoying at sixty-six years old. He wanted nothing more than to wipe that self-satisfied grin off his older self's face.

"How long exactly?" Haymitch narrowed his eyes. "How long before I marry her?"

"Ah, ah," Mrs. Abernathy clicked her tongue. "Let that be a surprise, and I don't see what the problem is. Perhaps this will help you both have a better understanding of each other."

There was nothing innocent about the smile on her face, Haymitch thought. It was the smile Effie put on when she had to charm sponsors into giving her something she wanted, it was a smile that meant she had something up her sleeves.

"It is highly improper," Effie piped in, giving her opinion on the matter. "Whatever will people say?"

"Nothing," Mr. Abernathy replied. "Cause no one except Beetee and the both of us will know about you. Nobody's gonna say anything."

"I'll take the sofa in the living room," Haymitch grumbled.

"I don't think you quite understand my husband. Your situation is very delicate. There are only a handful of people who know of this trip of yours. If you sleep in the living room, Haymitch, our daughter is going to wonder who you are, and she is a very persistent young woman. She won't stop until she gets an answer and we'd rather she not know. So until we send her off to her Aunt Jo, I'm afraid, you will have to stay in your room."

"So, what you're sayin' is, you're hidin' us away?" Haymitch asked, the dissatisfaction was clear in his voice.

"Yeah, kid, keep out of sight," his future-self scowled. "Any more problems?"

"If you don't mind me asking, who is Jo?" Effie asked out of curiousity. "I don't think I know of anyone by that name."

"Oh, you will meet her soon enough, a very charming young lady. Quite a character," Mrs. Abernathy answered which piqued Haymitch's curiousity. There was something in her voice that clued him in that Jo might not turn out to be Effie's favourite person.

"Aunt Effie? Is my sister here already?"

A hush silence fell on four of them and they exchanged a mortified glance. They had forgotten about Rye in the next room.

"I'm coming, darling! Well, have a pleasant night you two. I shall see you both tomorrow. Try to be nice to each other," Mrs. Abernathy patted both their arms.

The older man looked at them in turn and then he lowered his voice, "Aria's going to be next to you so... try not to be too loud tonight."

"What?" Effie gasped, her eyes widened in alarm. "We - We're not going to be sleeping _together_ tonight, are we? It is not tonight that we - "

"I only see one bed. Anythin' can happen, yeah?" Mr. Abernathy smirked. "Come on, Haymitch, don't tell me you don't think she's a pretty one?"

"You need to mind your own business," Haymitch snapped irritably and pulled the door shut. He made sure to keep it locked, just in case his future-self or his future daughter decided to walk into the room in the middle of the night.

The door was barely closed before there was a knock.

"What?" Haymitch hissed.

"I mean it, when you both argue tonight try not to be too loud," Mr. Abernathy said through the door. "Sorry to put ideas in your head and destroy your expectations, sweetheart."

"I wasn't expecting – Oh, never mind," Effie shook her head when they heard his retreating footsteps. "You are terribly improper."

"Me? Shouldn't you be taking it up to him?"

"You're him and he's you. It's one and the same. We are both very meddlesome people," she complained, "very meddlesome indeed. Who would have thought? But oh, I can see right through the ruse. It is quite obvious, really!"

"What are you on abut now?"

She paused and the colours flushed her cheeks. "I – I just thought that... Don't you feel as if they are trying to ... get us together?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"I don't care what happened to me between now and then, sweetheart, but I don't play matchmaker, not now and not in the future."

"You really should be careful about what you said. Never say never, as they saying goes," Effie told him and in the 74th Games, she would be the one to remind him about what he said on this very day. "Now, what are we going to do?"

He shrugged, dropping into the armchair next to the window.

"I think I shall have a long, warm bath," Effie announced unnecessarily as if he had asked.

The problem came later when he realised that he could see her shadow through the opaque door bathroom door which was facing the armchair he was sitting on. As the water filled the tub, he was her silhouette moving in the bathroom, taking her wig off and slowly peeling off the dress. Gritting his teeth, he shot out of the armchair to the bed, determined to push the images aside but even though he could no longer see her, his mind was still imagining her in the bath with her skin glossy from the soap and the water up to her chest, covering her breasts.

Haymitch was a man and most often than not, when she was standing in front of him nagging about something or the other, he let his mind wander. He tried to picture what she really looked like beneath those puffy dresses and tight skirts, and if her hair was soft and curly under those wigs - he was right in guessing she was blonde, seeing her future-self had answered one of his questions at least - but imagining her in the bathroom was taking it too far, he felt. He blamed future. His emotions and his mind was a jumbled mess.

When she emerged, Effie was wearing a robe, the waistband tied tightly and securely around her waist. Her head was wrapped in a towel and she wasn't bare-faced. The make-up on her face was less severe, no bright eye shadows and unnatural lip colour, but she still powdered her face very heavily.

"You travelled into the future with your make-up bag?" he asked snidely.

"Oh, don't mock me, Haymitch. You hardly gave me the time to prepare myself but my future self - Mrs. Abernathy, I mean - had the foresight to leave some essentials she thought I might need when she set-up this room for us, cosmetics being one of those. Haymitch, really, don't lie on the bed with your shoes on," she glared at him as she picked up the jacket and the vest he discarded on the floor.

Haymitch ignored her, folding his arms across his stomach and staring at the ceiling.

"I need a drink," he announced, lifting his head to see her holding up his jacket. "Is my flask in there?"

"There's nothing in here. You shouldn't - "

She stopped abruptly at the sound of thunderous footsteps in the hallway. She pedalled back to the bed and knelt on it, next to Haymitch.

"Give it back," a girl screamed.

"Catch me," a boy taunted. _Rye,_ he placed a name to the voice.

"Don't run! Mama'll get mad, I swear. Come on…"

"Aria, catch him! Don't let him get – Why'd you let him get away?"

"Dinner," Haymitch heard his own voice thundered across the house. "Get your asses down here. I ain't calling again."

Haymitch heard Effie said something about children running around in the house but he was no longer paying her any attention. This house, his house thirty-five years in the future, was alive with the sound of children running and laughing. Downstairs, he could hear the five of them talking. He could hear Aria's exasperated cry of "Dad! It's not funny," which was followed soon after by Rye's and his future-self's amused laughter. There was a family having dinner in the kitchen and he would one day be a part of it.

He pressed the heel of his palm against his temple. This was too much. It was too much to take in all at once – being married, being married to _Effie_ , having a child and a family.

All he had ever known since he was seventeen was an empty house littered with empty bottles, a house people generally avoided and a Village where only he existed.

"Are you alright, Haymitch?"

He raised his head and made a sweeping glance around his room that was so different than what he remembered it to be.

"This was my brother's room," he said trying to distract himself. "It was his room. I've never came in here since he – since he died. It was only his for two weeks but - " Haymitch rose to his feet and went over to the chest of drawers at the corner of the room. It was the only familiar piece of furniture he recognised. He pulled the top drawer. It was there, exactly as he had left it when he last played it with his brother. "This was his. I bought it for him after I won."

He turned, showing Effie the wooden chess board.

"They changed this room but - "

"They still kept what's important," Effie finished. "What about Aria's room?" She asked softly.

"It was Mama's," he answered, telling Effie more things than he had ever told her in the years that they worked together.

"Why don't you teach me how to play?"

Haymitch's lips quirked upwards. "Maybe next time," he said and flopped back down on the bed, ignoring the affronted look on her face.

If Effie expected him to be a gentleman and sleep on the floor, she would find herself sorely disappointed. He never claimed to be a gentleman.

The bed dipped as she lay next to him, careful to keep a respectable distance between them. In the end, she grabbed the bolster and put it in between to create a barrier.

"Your side, my side," she declared proudly.

"You're acting like a blushing virgin," was all he had to say about her behaviour. "Are you?"

"You've been in the Capitol long enough to know how things are. I'm not," she answered candidly which surprised him since he had expected her to evade answering the question. "But I am not in the habit of sleeping on the same bed with a man I am not in a relationship with."

"Never had a one night stands, sweetheart?" He asked, almost mocking in nature.

"I usually leave when the person I'm with falls asleep. It helps prevent awkward morning after."

Again, the honest answer surprised him.

"Really? I never thought you're one of those," he smirked. "Always thought you're the one who'd want to snuggle and talk."

"Maybe one day, I'll do it with you," she teased and he promptly stopped prying.

XxX

Sleep never came easy for him unlike Effie who was already asleep, her hands pillowed under her head. In her sleep, she looked different to him; younger, at ease and more human, more real.

Instead of spending more time tossing and turning, Haymitch snuck out of the room and then paused in the hallway. The door to Aria's room was slightly open and the bedside lamp was on. He moved quietly and took a peek. The girl was sleeping on her stomach, her mouth opened slightly and even as the floorboard creaked, she slept on.

 _This is a girl who never had to watch her back,_ he thought. She grew up protected by her parents, by _him._

Not wanting to be caught watching Aria, Haymitch retreated and went to the kitchen. He searched high and low for something to drink before calling it quits and returning back to the room empty handed.

 _That old man is fucking sober. Not a single bottle in the damn house,_ he cursed angrily. At least Effie's future-self was nice enough to leave her compact powder and lipsticks while his future-self couldn't even leave a bottle out especially since it seemed that the old man had somehow expected their presence on this very day. _What an asshole._

Like Aria, he settled down on the bed, flat on his stomach and eventually fell asleep feeling annoyed before being woken up by one of his recurring nightmares. It was fortunate that his knife didn't make it through the journey with him because the probability of him hurting Effie who was sleeping next to him was rather high.

The bolster she had put between them was on the floor next to the bed, and she was pressed against his side, her arm slung across his mid-section. He carefully angled his hip away from her and flung her hand away from him.

She yelped, sitting upright in surprise.

"What happened?" she asked.

"You were spooning me."

"I did not," she gasped.

Outside, Victor's Village was quiet. The sky was still littered with bright stars. Dawn had not broken yet and the rest of the occupants in the house were still asleep except for them.

"I'm going to get somethin' to eat."

"I'm coming with you," she said in a hurry, not wanting to be left alone. "We have to be really quiet. We don't want Aria to wake up and find us."

They moved to the kitchen as quietly as possible with Effie clutching to the back of his shirt because she claimed he knew the house well enough to walk through it in the dark with his eyes close unlike her and she would need to be guided.

Effie fixed coffee for them. He found a loaf of bread, cereals, oats and fruits. He even held the jar of peanut butter curiously in his hand.

"You look like you've never had that before," Effie commented. "That must be Aria's."

"I've had these in the Capitol but never in Twelve and it's definitely not somethin' I'll ever have in my house."

"I've never seen your house this well-stocked. I could barely find a bag of tea or a clean glass when I came for the Reaping. I must be doing a very good job of running this kitchen in the future. Oh, this is my favourite!" she exclaimed excitedly, pulling out the non-fat yoghurt and began preparing her breakfast.

"Hmmm."

"It doesn't feel right to eat their food," Effie hesitated, carrying her bowl of mixed fruits and yoghurt.

"I don't think it's a problem. I speak on behalf of that old man up there. Go ahead and eat," he shrugged.

They sat across each other on the kitchen counter quietly, each minding their own business and it never occurred to Haymitch that _this_ was a scene of domesticity until his future-self disrupted their moment.

"Look at you," Mr. Abernathy snickered. "One night in the same bed together and you're having breakfast without even arguing. I ain't interruptin' anything important, yeah?"

"You're an asshole," Haymitch said as he walked past his older self. "Stop making comments like that."

"I apologise for his behaviour. He's just grumpy."

"I should know," Mr. Abernathy winked. "Sorry, sweetheart, but you need to get back upstairs. My girl's awake and she's going to come down any second. It won't be the entire day that you've got to stay away. She's going off to District Seven soon until this is solved."

"I understand. I don't wish to be of any inconvenience and really, I think all of this is my fault. The fact that we're here… It is entirely of my making. I shouldn't have gone for the watch."

"You couldn't have known," Mr. Abernathy murmured. "And he didn't blame you, did he?"

"Haymitch? Oh, no, no he didn't. It's surprising really. I thought he would have been extremely angry with me but I supposed, he is as shock about all of this as I am."

XxX

The door to their room opened and Haymitch looked up from where he sat, playing chess against himself.

"She gone yet? Your daughter…"

"Yeah," Mr. Abernathy nodded. "You're free to be in any part of the house now. Just don't leave the house. We've got to contain who you interact with."

"Yeah, fine, so what's going on?"

"I spoke to Beetee an hour ago. He's the only one who can fix the watch so he's taking the midday train in District Three. He should be here tomorrow.

"Fix it? How long is that going to take? Didn't he make more?"

"I was under the impression that we could leave for home once Beetee arrive with a new watch," Effie sat on the bed, crestfallen and disappointed. "It will be awhile then."

"After what happened to you both, he thought it was wise not to create more," Mrs. Abernathy said.

"A damn good thing, too. Imagine the catastrophe it'd cause if the watch is marketed to the people in the Capitol or if it fell in the wrong hands… People would jump timelines as they damn well please without any regards for its consequences. Think about it," Mr. Abernathy implored. "The first thing you asked me was why I've never went back into time to save Mama and Lief. If _you_ thought that, Haymitch, how many others thought the same? How many others will jump forward to stop themselves from dying? Or change their future?"

"Did you ever – " Effie ventured to ask.

"No," Mrs Abernathy shook her head. "We don't want to know. You have the _only_ watch that is capable of moving a person from one time to another."

"You never wished you had it back?" Haymitch asked.

"Once," his future-self admitted, "When I thought I was going to lose her during the war. I wanted the watch to go back in time."

"What is going to happen to me?" Effie asked, afraid. "What is this war? Why am I – What will happen?"

The knowing look that his future-self exchanged with Effie's future-self did not sit well with Haymitch. It must be terrible enough that he would want the watch back to get to Effie sometime down their timeline.

"You made it," Haymitch said gruffly to Effie, in an attempt to pacify her worries. "Whatever it is, you made it, sweetheart, that's all that should matter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor people have no idea what's in store for them. Their future selves, a hayffie shipper. I hope you've enjoyed reading this chapter. What do you think of it?


	4. The Future Is Not Set In Stone

**Chapter 4: The Future Is Not Set In Stone**

There were a few times when Haymitch walked in on Mr. and Mrs. Abernathy that left him feeling both mortified and embarrassed. It wasn't that he caught them in anything Effie would deem scandalous or intimate. No, he saw them engaging in perfectly normal acts that he assumed most married couples do which in itself, to someone like him who spent years alone, was intimate and personal.

Once, on the second night that they were there, he had wanted to relocate to the sofa in the living room only to stop short in the hallway. His future-self was sitting on the sofa, feet stretched out in front of him on the coffee table, reading a book. Effie's feet were on his lap as she knits. They appeared comfortable in each other's presence and something tugged in him. He tried to say something but he couldn't bring himself to disrupt what they have and chase them out.

"Somethin' you need, kid?" the older man asked, turning towards him.

"Yeah, no, nothing," he shook his head and returned to the guest room. At Effie's curious look, he simply said, "I'm gonna sleep here. Just do what you did yesterday, put the damn bolster in between."

The second time was when he passed by their bedroom. The door was ajar and he saw Effie's older-self turning around, exposing her back to Mr. Abernathy who without even saying a word, unzipped her dress as if it was expected of him.

The other time was during breakfast. He and Effie were seated on the stools around the kitchen counter, eating with Mrs. Abernathy when Mr. Abernathy walked in. Haymitch noticed the way his hand brushed against his wife's back as he passed and the way she tilted her head so he could kiss the corner of her mouth.

"Good morning," Mrs. Abernathy beamed at him and he grunted in response, making a bee line for the cup of coffee the older woman had prepared for him.

Haymitch tried to shake it off but the familiarity in which their future counterparts conducted themselves leeched on to him, and it stirred something in him; desire, jealousy and a yearning for comfort.

If he felt something, Effie must too, he thought, but it wasn't something he would ask her outright. So he kept quiet but he caught Effie discreetly watching him when she thought he didn't notice and she was looking at him differently. As if seeing the way they both would be in the future had cast him in a different light. He supposed, it was true because if he were to be honest, the way he saw Effie had shifted. He kept trying to find the shred of Capitol in Mrs. Abernathy, and he found it in little things like the magazines she read and the expensive shoes but those were things he could live with. What he truly saw was a woman who would genuinely care about him in the future, and perhaps, all those time that Effie had supported him back to his bed during drunken nights were not just a ruse for her to keep her job.

As much as he'd rather she not, Effie talked to him at night as they lay next to each other. Effie wasn't like him. She wasn't one to keep things buried inside of her.

"Can you imagine us shopping for groceries together?" she asked on their third night. "I remembered taking you out for you to have a suit tailored and that was a nightmare in itself."

"Why are you asking me this?"

"Because that's what they did today while you spent your time sequestered in this room drinking. They went to the town market for groceries. It was quite… It was very us, if I may say so myself. Mrs. Abernathy had a list of things to buy and she left it on the counter because Haymitch… I mean, Mr. Abernathy, was supposed to add a few more things that he needed to the list. He forgot to bring the list along and - "

"She blamed him," he finished, "and he blamed her. It's her list, she should remember it. But let me guess… She still got everything she needed on the list."

"Yes, she did. She remembered it."

He chuckled and Effie smiled, turning on her sides to face him. She moved the bolster away so she could see his face.

"Do you think you will ever fall in love with me?"

His breath caught in his throat at the unexpected question.

"That clearly happened," he muttered, keeping his eyes fixed on the ceiling, his arms folded across his stomach

"How do you think? You've disliked me so much, how does that changed to - "

"I don't know, sweetheart," he cut her off before she could go on.

He really didn't want to think about this but Effie didn't look like she would let the subject go.

"I - " she paused. "I tried to get it out of myself but she's not … She's not very forthcoming about it."

"Probably a good thing," he shrugged. "Don't think we're allowed to know too much about the future. Being here could already have affected the future and we just don't know about it."

"I know," she nodded, "and speaking of the future," she lowered her voice.

This time, Haymitch turned his head towards her, curious.

"I know who they are… Katniss and Peeta."

He raised himself on an elbow, his brows creasing.

"Who are they? What do they got to do with us… in the future?" he asked despite what he told her earlier about knowing too much.

Effie sat up, folding her legs beneath her. Haymitch propped himself on the headboard, waiting.

"They are our tributes," she told him and his eyebrows shot up.

"Both of them? We're going to win for two years?"

"That's the peculiar thing, Haymitch," Effie scooted forward. Her knees bumped against his side gently and she leaned forward, eager and anxious. "It was unprecedented. They _both_ won – will win - on the same year. I'm not sure which year it will be exactly because I just know that we will bring home two winners."

"That can't be. It's impossible," he was quick to dismiss Effie's claim. "The Capitol won't ever allow for two Victors. You've got to be wrong 'bout them."

"What if they changed the rule? Anything can happen between now and then."

"When did those two – us in the future - said the Games will end?" Haymitch asked. "How long more of these Games do we have to sit through?"

"They didn't say anything but logically speaking, it has to be after the war that we heard about, sometime in the 75th Games."

"How'd you know 'bout Peeta and Katniss? Were they here in the house?"

"They weren't," Effie shook her head that she had covered with some kind of cloth. It made him wonder why she bothered since her future-self was already walking around without a wig or a scarf on. She would know that eventually, he would see her natural hair.

"It was Aria's textbook. It was on the small table in the living room. I – I know I shouldn't but I was curious. I flipped through some of the pages and I came across Katniss' and Peeta's name a few times in it. I think they are important to the future; the book portrayed them as such. I didn't have the opportunity to delve too deep into the book so all the information I managed to glean from it, you now know them too. Mr. Abernathy caught me with the book in my hands. He was … He was quite furious with me. He took the book away so none of us would be tempted to read it."

"Did he hurt you?" Haymitch frowned.

"What?" she blinked in surprise at the question. "Oh no, he didn't do anything, Haymitch. I wasn't worried that he would. I know you will never hurt me."

His whole body stilled. That was a heavy conviction and a lot of faith to put into him. He wanted to address it, wanted to tell her that she shouldn't make such declaration about a man who killed other children to survive but she was already prattling on.

"Mr. Abernathy did tell me one thing. I didn't think he wanted to tell me but he did eventually. He said that Katniss and Peeta are _very_ important, so important in fact, that the peace that the country is enjoying was made possible because of them."

"It's a message," Haymitch said. "He wants us to remember them."

"He shouldn't worry. I hardly think that is the kind of information either you or I will forget. Two victors, Haymitch, two. We've never even had one before."

"Hmm," he hummed.

The future had shown him that it wasn't as bleak as he thought it would be but knowing that not all the children under his mentorship would die, lifted his spirits in a different way. It gave him hope. He would bring two of them back to their families.

Haymitch had long turned off the lights in their room and they were lying in the dark for quite a while, with only their breathing punctuating the silence when Effie spoke.

"Haymitch," she called out. The bed creaked as she moved and then he felt her fingers on his arm, her touch so light he thought he had imagined it at first. "If they die, their children will not exist. There won't be a Rye and Willow. There might not even be an _us_ or Aria. The Games might still go on even till now. I'm scared of what we're supposed to do now."

XxX

Haymitch heard the approaching footsteps and he stilled with the bottle to his lips.

_Heavy steps._

That would mean it was him and he was right. The older Haymitch lowered himself, taking a seat next to him on the top step of the front porch.

"Where'd you get that?"

"This?" Haymitch raised the bottle of whiskey. "Same place in the backyard where I keep thinks I want no one to find. Didn't notice your stash was gone, huh? Couldn't find any in the kitchen the first night I was here, figured Trinket's put a lid on your drinking or something. Went to the backyard the morning after… You stopped drinkin' because of your kid?"

 _Father_ , he mused. He never imagined him being one. Once or twice maybe when Myra was still alive but that turned out to be a pipe dream.

"Didn't stop," his future-self answered. "It's controlled. I don't drink in front of Aria. That's the rule but I still need a drink now and then, when things get a little tough but Effie's there to tell me when to stop."

Haymitch sneered.

"You let her control you, gave yourself up to the Capitol," he said, trying desperately to understand why his future-self did not see Effie the way he did now.

Something flashed in Mr. Abernathy's eyes before it dimmed. When he spoke, there wasn't a shred of anger in his voice but a hint of patience and understanding.

"She is not Capitol, kid. She hasn't been in a long time. She's my wife. You won't understand it now. You'll have a few more years to learn but I think you've already noticed that there is more to her than the Capitol escort. You'll feel what I feel for her. There is a hell of a lot of history between you two. There'll be things you'll both endure that will strengthen what you have. What - you don't trust me?" he asked when he saw the look Haymitch gave him. "I'm you. You wouldn't marry her if she ain't that important to you. You won't be with just anyone, yeah?"

"I didn't think I'd be marrying anyone," he muttered.

The older man chuckled. "She'll wear you down. You want her happy. It's up to you if you want to take my word for it or not, but her happiness will matter a lot to you."

"Never seen Twelve like this," Haymitch said, changing the subject.

"The whole country's different," Mr. Abernathy told him. "You had a hand in changing it."

"Yeah?" he raised an eyebrow, glancing over his shoulder to look at the older man. "What'd I do?"

"Can't tell you, can I?"

Haymitch watched a gaggle of geese waddled across in front of him and he took in the clean state of the front yard. There were a bed of flowers, the vines and the moss growing on the outer walls were gone, and a swing hanging from a tree branch. Inside the house, he could hear the soft hum coming from the television and repetitive clicking of knitting needles.

"I want what you have," he admitted. It was something he didn't dare admit to anyone else but himself. "It never bothered me before to be alone but I've seen what you have here and I want it. It's… It's peaceful."

Haymitch passed the bottle to the older man who smirked and took a swig from it.

"It won't be easy. When you return to your timeline after seeing what you saw here and after years passed, you're going to eventually forget how it feels to be here," Mr. Abernathy spoke. "All you're gonna feel and think is what seems real to you at that time, the hopelessness of losing the tributes. You've been through that for the past fifteen years and this? You're going to think none of it was real, that you were drunk and you were hallucinating or some shit like that. But it happened, you did travel forward."

"I'll get two home. Two kids – Katniss and Peeta," Haymitch said just to gauge his other self's reaction to that. "How's that possible?"

Mr. Abernathy frowned and then figured that Effie must have told him.

"You're smart. You'll figure it out when the time comes. I did. But it'll be a long time before they come along and between the time you just left behind to end up here and their Games, that's the worst, ain't it?"

"What happens if I don't figure that shit out?"

"Then this," Mr. Abernathy gestured to the house behind them, " _might_ not exist. _Might._ The future is _not_ set in stone. It don't mean what you see now is what you get. In between years, the choices you make might change things. Who knows? Maybe you just happened to fall into a timeline when _this_ turned out to be the future."

"That's reassuring," Haymitch rolled his eyes.

"There's a theory Beetee told me about… That the choices you make, no matter what it is, would correct the course of the future to what it's meant to be and if that's true, then this is what you're in for – a wife, a kid, a family."

"Sounds a lot to me like fate and chances," Haymitch snorted. "Not science - hard to believe that old man would speculate on that damn theory."

"Yeah," Mr. Abernathy shrugged. "Point is, don't lose hope, and don't drink yourself to your grave. Stay alive."

XxX

The attic, where he used to keep the boxes of clothes from the Capitol, the plaques the eleven districts gifted to him for winning and all other old trinkets had been cleared out. He saw for himself how spacious the attic was, enough for Beetee to commandeer and work on the watch.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

Beetee's workspace was a mess so he didn't dare touch anything.

"Haymitch," the old man smiled jovially and beckoned him closer. "Everything is going as well as can be expected. I need some parts to get it to work again. This watch is thirty-five years old and some of its parts are obsolete now. By the time I'm done, it won't look the same I can guarantee you."

"You can get the parts right?"

"Sure, Haymitch, sure. Nothing to worry about. Just a little delay on the time but nothing terrible. I've called Finn – we're lucky he's in the City right now – and he's scouring for what I've requested," Beetee explained as he twisted the screwdriver on the watch. "It will be a few days at least."

"Finn?" Haymitch's brows furrowed together. "That's the boy that'll win the 65th Games, yeah? Finnick Odair, District Four."

His question which he thought was harmless seemed to be the opposite in nature for Beetee looked up, slightly alarm before he returned back to his work.

"You will meet Finn one day," was all Beetee said. "If you don't mind, Haymitch, I have quite a bit to do."

"Yeah," he conceded. "I think I'll stay here for a bit. Won't get in your way."

If Beetee suspected that he was trying to get away from Effie and their future selves, the man said nothing.

XxX

Effie grew increasingly restless by the fourth day. She had explored every inch of the house and she gave the newspapers and magazines a wide berth because those materials would contain information about the future she didn't think she was supposed to know. She wasn't allowed to leave for fear that she might cross paths with someone, especially Katniss and Peeta next door, and alter the timeline more than being here already had.

Haymitch was nowhere to be found and for the most morning, she was left to her own devices. Mrs. Abernathy had left the house with a huff after a disagreement with Mr. Abernathy about the something Effie thought was terribly banal, and had gone off to the bakery to assist Peeta. She sat on the stool at the kitchen counter, her head propped on her hand in a manner that was unbecoming of a proper lady and stared out of the window.

"Bored, sweetheart?"

She blinked to see Mr. Abernathy on the window, an amused half-grin on his face.

"Quite," she replied. "Are you sure there is absolutely nothing I can do?"

There were times when she forgot that it was her future-self living in this house because driven by boredom, Effie had tried to clean and organise only to realise that everything was organised the way she would have organised it. The only other room that she was itching to clean was Aria's but Effie was mindful to stay out of the room. As much as she wanted to, knowing too much personal details of her future daughter made her blood ran cold. A part of her would want to know the daughter as they both grow, and not cheat.

"I'm gonna make a one-time deal with you, not something I make with my wi – Mrs. Abernathy even. You can join me. I'm going to feed my geese."

Effie hesitated and wrinkled her nose in distaste at the thought of being too close to those loud, aggressive fowls. Mr. Abernathy laughed and then walked off from the window. With a sigh, Effie rose to follow him. She could watch him feed the geese at least, rather than spending her time doing nothing.

"Is this what you do in your old age?" Effie said. "Feed your geese and annoy your wife?"

"What else should a man do?" he asked. "Aria finds me annoying too. I used to be her favourite person but she now thinks I'm embarrassing her in front of her friends. Her mother thinks I'm doing it on purpose, maybe I am."

"Teenagers are… difficult," Effie ventured to say.

"Oh, you don't say," he chuckled. "I take the children – Willow and Rye – out sometimes. Pick 'em up from school and bring 'em round to their father's bakery in town. First corner on the left, can't miss it - Mellark's Bakery. I do some work at the shed when I feel like it," he nodded at the small nondescript hut adjacent to the main house. "Carve some woods for Effie and Aria. Nothing fancy – jewellery boxes, newspaper stand, those sort of things."

"That's your talent when you won the Quell. I thought you've abandoned it."

"Picked it up again after the war," he answered. "It's better now that I don't have the shakes."

Her eyes fell on his hands, steady and stable. "You are different now than ... than..."

"So are you," he told her.

"I like you better sober," she smiled. "You are kinder and nicer to me."

His head snapped up to fix her with a look, and Effie flushed, wondering if she had stepped out of line except that wasn't the case for the older Haymitch at all. He was remembering the other time she had told him that; the first time in District Thirteen. Or would that now be the second?, he wondered. First for him and second for her, he supposed, and he wondered if there would be a feeling of déjà vu for Effie later.

"And I like you better, Effie, without all that make-up," he told her, repeating the words his past-self had once said to her. "Next time, leave the wig behind, yeah? The guy inside will like it," he jerked his chin towards where they could see the younger Haymitch descending the stairs down to the living room.

Effie blushed at the implication and looked away. "He has never seen me without it. He will see just how plain and undesirable I am, ugly like he always say. Even now, with minimal make-up on -"

"He won't think that. I remember the first time I saw _you_ , the way you look without your wig or anything on your face. I remember the first time you laid it all bare for me. Never forgotten it," he said wistfully.

"It is still difficult for me to reconcile the fact that you are both the same person when you are both different in your own ways. He's grumpy and angry, and indifferent all the time. I don't know how one can be angry _and_ indifferent but he pulled it off. You're… You're calmer, easier to talk to," Effie told him, watching the younger Haymitch as he walked towards them. "But I can see a bit of you in him. I can see the man he will be."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was difficult to write (and to edit). I kept going back to it because there were always little things that I wasn't satisfied with so I'm a little wary of it. Hopefully, you didn't feel the same and you've enjoyed reading it. Tell me what you think of each of their conversation with future haymitch! Leave a review :)


	5. What's In A Name?

 

**Chapter 5 : What's In A Name?**

Haymitch had grown used to this place.

It had only been slightly more than a week but it was enough to make him feel at ease. He had never felt this comfortable in his own house prior to this. To him, the house in Victor's Village was a place where he lives. It wasn't his home but being propelled into the future made him feel differently, made him think of this as home.

He learnt to fake his sleep in the early hours in the morning so Effie could use the bathroom first without worrying about him seeing her morning face and taking off the cloth on her head. He learnt where the cheese and wine, and chocolate bars were kept and which drawer he could find the bowls and spoons. He learnt to get fresh towel for Effie without having to keep asking Mrs. Abernathy for it. He learnt to put away his dirty dishes in the sink because once, Mrs. Abernathy had called him out for it and he had to endure Effie and his future-self's amused smug faces.

His sarcastic _"yes, mother, I'll put it in the kitchen,_ " earned him a glare from Mrs. Abernathy that would have sent lesser man running for cover.

"You're kind of scary," he commented to Effie that night.

It should scare him because it wasn't right but for once, he felt that he belonged here and that this was his.

The sound of the geese honking in the backyard was familiar to him. The fresh sheets, the smell of clean house without empty bottles rolling around and dirty dishes piling in the sink became familiar to him. The natural sunlight filtering through the windows and the sweet scent of freshly baked pastries that was constantly wafting from the house next door was something he learnt to live with.

He and Effie fell into a routine. They knew to retreat back to the guest bedroom each time Katniss or Peeta visit, to remain hidden and not make a sound, and when they leave, Effie loved watching the family from their bedroom window. She told him that Willow and Rye were perfect, and that she couldn't wait to meet them. She asked about Katniss and Peeta, but other than telling her that he had an inkling that Katniss might be Aspen's daughter, there was nothing else he knew.

It was during one of Katniss' and Peeta's visit and they were both in the room when Effie lamented to him.

"I miss home."

She sat on the floor with her knees pulled up to her chest. She was dressed in his future-self's old jumper and it was too big for her, the sleeves too long. She pressed her face on the crook of her elbow and Haymitch was startled by the thought that when she inhaled, she could very well be inhaling his scent. His future's self scent, sure, but still _his._

"Yeah, 'course, you do," he rolled his eyes. He moved his pawn on the chessboard and gestured for Effie to make her move. With nothing much to do each time they had to retreat back to their room, Haymitch had finally taught her how to play. "This place ain't nothing like your Capitol, right? Nobody here cares about the latest fashion or shoes, and the men throwing themselves at your feet at all those fucking parties. Of course you'll miss all the attention."

He wished he didn't sound so bitter but the thought of Capitol men lusting after her made something bubbled deep inside of him.

 _She's going to be my wife. Nobody should be flirting with her but_ me.

Effie raised her head briefly, studying him with curious eyes.

"I know you think of me as shallow," she said, resigned, pressing her cheek against the arms folded across her knees, "and I don't fault you but I don't know who I am here. Don't you get that feeling, Haymitch? Don't you look at yourself – your future self – and not recognise who that person is?"

Haymitch grunted in response because that thought had flitted through his mind more than once; a man who settled down with a Capitol escort, a man who willingly cut down on his drinking because his wife requested it of him, a man who could go to sleep at night without passing out drunk.

"You're still you, Trinket," he muttered. Effie propped her chin and stared at him. "That woman downstairs, she's still you. She's still bossy and demanding, and she never sits still. She has a list when she's got to shop for groceries, she has schedules. That's who you are, at the core of it, you'll still be the same person thirty-five years in the future. Don't think I never noticed how _both_ of you avoided the geese pen."

The smile that she gave because of what he said made him feel that it probably wasn't the end of the world to be honest with her once in a while. It was a real, genuine smile too. Not one of those that she put on for the cameras. It suited her, he thought.

"I just – I don't know what to feel about this being my future. She won't tell me what she does now. I don't know if I'm working or I'm a house... house -"

"Housewife," Haymitch said, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"Yes, that," she shuddered.

"What's the matter, Trinket? What's wrong with that?" Haymitch teased. "Or you got someone else in mind you're hoping to be married to? Got a fiancé I didn't know about? Or maybe... I don't fit your expectations of what makes a good husband?"

"You are a good husband," she said, trying to fight off the blush. "I mean... I would assume you are, from what I've seen."

He arched an eyebrow at that comment. "You just don't like this future then, huh?"

"Do you?" She deflected the question back to him. "Being married to me must not have crossed your mind at all. It occurred to me that the only explanation to this is that you must have somehow in the future, gotten me pregnant and because you're a responsible man - "

"Would you have accepted that?" He shot back. "Would you have married me –would you have let me marry you - because you're pregnant?"

"I – I don't know. I'd want you to be married to me because you love me and you care for me, not because you're compelled to do so."

"If that's the case, sweetheart, we'd both be very bitter. I ain't sure but I – I think we would. That can't be it though, looking at how our future selves are. They aren't bitter people. They're... happy. He said... He said I'm gonna to do things to make you happy," he told Effie.

"That doesn't sound like you at all right now," Effie smiled, moving her Queen piece to protect the King. "But him... I can picture it."

"I must care about you a great deal."

"You must have," she agreed. "To be able to look past everything that you hate me for and start a family together."

"I don't hate you, Trinket. You're a fucking pain in my ass but," he shrugged. "You're better than Amara, that old goat was a horrible escort."

"Language," she clicked her tongue but it was obvious she was trying not to smile at what he said.

"I bet you named that kid," he told her casually. "Aria Abernathy..."

It garnered a laugh from her. "I would have gone for Adela or Lucinda or Anastasia. I like those names."

"I don't," he wrinkled his nose. "Too Capitol."

"Adela's not _too_ Capitol," she argued. "Euphemia is."

Haymitch started snickered. "Who the fuck's that? Why would any parent name their child after somethin' that sounds close to pneumonia and ... Oh. Euphemia... Effie... _Right,_ " he pressed his lips together but his shoulders were shaking. He averted his gaze from Effie's face to the chessboard and made a move. "I still wouldn't go for those names you said."

"Clearly," she waved her hand. "Our daughter's name is Aria after all. I wonder what it means. I will definitely have to look it up. Oh, perhaps, I will ask Mrs. Abernathy about it. We can find out which one of us chose that name for – Haymitch?"

He stood up, moving towards the window. He was breathing heavily, forcing air into his lungs, his fist clenching and unclenching at his sides.

 _What are you doing?_ _You're sitting here talking about the future and discussing baby names with Trinket – what are you doing? Bet Chaff had a real good laugh when that happened in the future._

"I need to get out of here," he announced

"No, wait. You can't!" she shot to her feet. "Haymitch, stop, they're still down - "

He turned the corner, disappearing from her view and took the stairs down quietly while expertly avoiding the steps he knew would creak. His intention was to slip out to the backyard when he saw her.

_Katniss._

If he ever had any doubts as to who the girl was, seeing her erased it. She was standing by the dining table, a hand resting casually behind the back of a chair where the young girl, Willow, was sitting. Katniss was talking to Mrs. Abernathy and the longer he stood there watching her, the more he was convinced.

She reminded him of Aspen Everdeen. It was the same Seam grey eyes, same dark hair, and the same smile. She stood tall like her father with strong shoulders and a leather bag slung across it.

_I saved Aspen's daughter from the Games. I got her out._

He wondered if that would eventually help to repair his relationship with Aspen.

He should move. He should move before he was spotted but a man with broad shoulders and blond hair came into the room with his son clinging to his back.

 _Peeta_.

The man paused briefly next to Katniss and kissed her cheek, and Haymitch blinked. He and Effie had spent so much time wondering how their future played out the way it did that now that he was wondering the same about his future tributes.

There were so many questions swirling in his mind. Will they be in the same year? Will the Games change in the future to allow for two Victors? The different Victors from different years fell in love and start a family? Or were they childhood sweetheart reaped into the Games together or did one of them volunteered because their other half was reaped?

_They can't be childhood friends. She's from the Seam and he looks like a merchant kid._

Just like he had done previously, he lingered far too long. The girl must have sensed his presence because she turned but he was quicker. He was already gone before she could see him.

XxX

"No, no, absolutely not, Aria," Mrs. Abernathy said into the phone. "Pass the phone to Jo, let me speak to her. No, you - give me a second. Effie, would you mind?" She gestured at the kettle whistling in the kitchen.

Effie nodded and hurried towards it, turning the stove off.

"What? Don't be silly, of course, I didn't just called out my own name. I was talking to your father. Oh, no, no, you're not asking your father about that hiking trip. He will just say yes, you know him, but I am putting my foot down on this, Aria Abernathy and tell your Aunt Jo that I forbid it!"

Mrs. Abernathy hung up the phone and Effie stepped back.

"Is everything alright with your daughter?"

"Oh, yes. She is just stubborn that one. She has Haymitch wrapped around her little finger and he'll do nearly everything that she asks. It's ridiculous. One of us has to be the strict parent here and of course, the task falls on me. It is no surprise at all that she often tries to bypass my authority and go straight to her father but not this time. Oh, not this time. You be careful with those two later, Effie."

Effie nodded and tried to smile. It never quite reached her eyes.

"You seem upset," Mrs. Abernathy commented. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh, no, nothing important. It's nothing, really. "

"It's never nothing, is it?" Mrs. Abernathy glanced over and Effie bit her tongue, wondering why she thought she could put on a smile and hoped the older woman would not notice. She couldn't fool herself.

"It's Haymitch," she sighed. "We were just talking in the room… We were playing chess and talking. It was going well when he just … leaves. I – I don't know if I said something to upset him. I do tend to run my mouth and say the wrong things as he so often points out but I don't think I did."

Mrs. Abernathy patted her arm comfortingly.

"With Haymitch, I learn that often times, it is not us... not you. He spent too long protecting himself, protecting his heart that when you try to reach out, he runs away, scared. Be patient with him. It will be worth it."

"Does he love you? I mean…. He's not a very expressive person, is he? How do you know then?"

Mrs. Abernathy placed the pot of stew on the stove and wiped her hands clean. With a smile that reflected her maturity and understanding, she turned to face Effie.

"Are you worried that he won't? Effie, I did not make a mistake marrying him."

"I – I just... I believed for years that he disliked me," Effie admitted. "I am not entirely sure how that could possibly lead to a marriage."

"Effie," Mrs. Abernathy said patiently. "I can count on my fingers the number of times he told me how he feels about me. This is Haymitch. It is not in the words he speaks that matters. It is in his silences and his actions. It's the words he wouldn't or coulen't say. You will be safe with him," Mrs. Abernathy assured her and then in conspiratorial whisper, she leaned in to say, "and no other man will make you feel things the way he does. His touch will make you feel so ... alive, make you thrum in excitement."

And she winked.

Effie nearly lost her grip on the bowl of mashed potatoes.

"Did you just wink at me?" She asked stupidly. "I – That is not..."

"We shall just blame Haymitch for rubbing his manners off on us, shall we?"

They set up the table quietly, working in tandem. Effie's mind wandered off. The heat rose to her cheeks when images of Haymitch's hand roaming her skin and her body invaded her mind and she bit her lip, hoping the older woman did not notice.

"Out of curiousity, who gave your daughter her name?" Effie asked, hoping to distract herself from imagining vivid sexual encounters of her and Haymitch.

Mrs. Abernathy paused and looked up. "Was that what you were both talking about? Your future's daughter's name? It is no wonder he bolted, Effie."

"To be fair, he brought it up," Effie laughed.

"If you must know, I am only telling you this because I think that you need to believe in him. You need something to convince you that he does care about you in the future – even now in fact, he cares - and I hope you remember it in … in your darkest moment."

Before Effie could pry on what she meant by darkest moment, Mrs. Abernathy said, "Haymitch named Aria in your honour."

Effie gaped at her older self. "What do you mean in my honour?"

"When he held his baby girl for the first time, he wanted Aria to be as brave and as fearless as you. To protect fiercely and love deeply; to be independent and to have the same courage you showed him again and again. Aria's his little lioness who he hoped will grow up to be just like her mother."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Depending on the language, Aria means air/lioness and I'm glad I finally had the opportunity to talk about Aria's name when I've been using it multiple times in my one-shot, the way it was for Tristan and Ethan in Consortium.
> 
> How do you think our favourite pair is doing? I think they're slowly coming around to accepting each other and their future-selves are their biggest supporter and Haymitch being used to the living in their future-selves house couldn't be a good thing, surely? Do leave a review for me. Thanks for reading :)


	6. Trinket, Are You Crying?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter where they talk about feelings, somewhat. I hope you feel something too while reading this :)

 

**Chapter 6: Trinket, Are You Crying?**

With Katniss, Peeta and their two children at Mr. and Mrs. Abernathy's house, Haymitch wandered over to their house. He glanced over his shoulder to see if Effie was peering between the curtains of the guest bedroom window but the curtains remained firmly shut.

The other houses in Victor's Village were occupied. There were children playing on the courtyard and women doing laundries. It was risky to be out, not to mention stupid but he kept moving forward with his head hung low, determined to get away from Effie and their future for a little while.

Haymitch reached the house across and walked on the outskirts of it, taking in the sight of the flowers beds in the garden. The flowers were of the same kind but in varying bright colours of yellow, blue, white and pink.

He wasn't one to care about flowers but this one was familiar. Reaching over to unlock the front gates, he entered the threshold of the house and walked in the garden. He plucked the flower, frowning to himself. It was when he pocketed it that the memory came back to him. Aspen had picked the flowers in the woods for his mother when they were kids.

 _Primroses_.

His feet led him to the kitchen and since the Capitol designed Victor's Village so that they all look the same, Haymitch knew there was a kitchen window. Very carefully, he peeked inside, looking for any signs of Iris or Aspen Everdeen.

The house was empty.

_Guess they didn't move in with their daughter when she won the Games._

Knowing that he was already pushing his luck, Haymitch trudged back, careful to keep out of sight. Katniss and Peeta had already left and was probably on the way home which meant if he had stayed a minute longer, they would definitely have crossed paths with him. Inside the house, Effie and Mrs. Abernathy were in the kitchen talking.

Not wanting to be roped in to help them, Haymitch retired to the living room and slumped on the sofa as he waited for dinner, a meal he never actually bothered about before but he enjoyed whatever food Mrs. Abernathy had on the table each time. While he wasn't certain if Effie was a good cook, somehow he always imagined her burning the house down, Mrs. Abernathy could actually cook simple meals.

In fact, Haymitch suspected that Mr. Abernathy had taught his wife some of his mother's cooking because unless he was losing his memories, some of the food Mrs. Abernathy whipped up was similar to his mother's.

"Why's your kid in Seven? Why there?" Haymitch asked over dinner.

"Her aunt's in Seven," Mr. Abernathy answered. "Jo and Aria are thick as thieves when they're together."

"Yeah, see, I don't know anyone from Seven except for Blight. Got any family members in Seven, Trinket? You got a sister right?" Haymitch turned his gaze towards Effie as he lifted the spoon of mashed potatoes into his mouth and munched loudly. "Supposed she moved to Seven in the future…"

It was truly comical to see the exact same reaction from Effie and Mrs. Abernathy. They pursed their lips in disapproval at his abysmal table manners.

"Haymitch, please," Effie hissed. "Don't talk when your mouth is full, and my sister's name isn't Jo."

Next to him, Mr. Abernathy snickered. "Where are your manners, kid?" he mimicked Effie and Mrs. Abernathy.

That night, when he finally collapsed in bed, he noticed the absence of bolster separating their sides of the bed.

"What's the matter, sweetheart? Not worried 'bout sleeping too close to me anymore? Not scared I'll grope you in your sleep?"

"If you wanted to grope me, you'd have done so the past few nights we are here. Besides, I am to be married to you," she told him simply. "It seems silly now to divide the bed."

With a note of incredulity, he asked, "That's it? Just like that and everything's fine?"

"I am learning to accept the fact of the future and the way my life will turn out."

Haymitch snorted and let his head fall back on the pillow. His hand was splayed out on his stomach, the other under his head.

"Sounds a lot like you've fucking gave up and resigned yourself to being married to me. How convenient..." He lifted his head. "Gave yourself up to whatever's gonna happen to you, huh? What's the word for that?"

"Fate," she answered. "Random circumstances, take your pick."

"Bullshit, all of it."

"What do you want me to say, Haymitch?" Effie snapped and raised herself on her elbow to look at him.

Haymitch pinched the bridge of his nose and ran his fingers over his eyes. "Forget it," he mumbled.

"Tell me," she insisted and for the first time since they arrived in this timeline, he saw her angry.

"Go to sleep."

"Don't start something and leave it hanging, Haymitch," she told him off. "You do this all the time. You close off and put up a wall. It's impossible to talk to you when you're that way."

"Why don't you just shut up and go to sleep, Trinket?"

"I'm not the one who started talking about Aria's name and walked out in the middle of the conversation," Effie went on. " _You_ brought me here with that prototype watch and I'm seeing all of these," she gestured generically around her, "and I'm _trying_ to come to terms with the course my life had – _will –_ take. What did you do instead? You're sitting there mocking me. But I'm not the one who is having a difficult time tying to deal with the future. You are. You, Haymitch. Where were you this afternoon when you walked out on me?"

"None of your damn business."

"If you could, you'd run away from this place."

Haymitch clenched his jaws and sat up.

"Wouldn't you of all people?" He spat, his voice rose with each word he spoke. "Look who you ended up with! What kind of fucking future is this for you?"

"What do you want?" Effie cried out. "What do you want me to do, Haymitch? Do you want me to go back in our own time stream, find myself a nice, understanding Capitol man to settle down with so none of this will happen? So we won't be married to each other, so Aria will never be born... Is that what you want me to do instead of just, as you so eloquently put it _resigned_ myself to a life with you? Do you want me to take charge of my life and do everything in my power so the future will not turn out this way?"

The comeback, the retort and the argument died on his lips. He knew very well what would happen if she did that. Their entire future would change its course. _This_ particular reality would not exist. She would be someone's trophy wife to be paraded and showed off at parties. He would be alone and miserable, and this house would not be a home.

"Do you really find this future so abhorrent that -"

"I didn't say that. Don't fucking assume anything," he glared at her. He was angry, as angry as her. "What happened in the kitchen with Mrs. Abernathy? What did you talk about with her? She said something, didn't she? Something that made you accept this so readily."

"We talked about you," she turned away. Her breathing was laboured and her fingers were pinching the flesh of her palm as she was prone to do when nervous. "She didn't say... She didn't try to convince me to accept this future, if that's what you're thinking. Maybe this is meant to be my life, Haymitch, _our_ life. Maybe there's a reason this happen – to give us hope to hold on to."

"What we're doing now in our own time..." Effie continued. "All those children we've lost... You think it doesn't affect me. You think after the canon went off and we have no tributes left to mentor, that I put on a pretty dress, fix my make-up and go to the nearest party. Yes, you're right. That's what I do and I dance until their faces are just a blur in my memory but it _does_ affect me, Haymitch. They died by my hands, I reaped them and I've never forgotten their names."

That admission struck a chord in him. He had heard her once crying in her room on her third year as his escort. It was after their girl died but he was drunk and he had dismissed what he heard as a trick, passed it off as her crying over a torn dress or something equally stupid.

A better man would have offered her comfort or said something to ease her troubled mind but everyone have demons. She could deal with it on her own.

"So you've developed a conscience," he said, detached." Good for you."

He might as well have struck her judging by the look on her face. Effie took a deep shuddering breath to collect herself. She began to pick on the loose thread of her nightgown.

"I know you don't care about me right now but I see a different person in the future. We love each other, Haymitch, as unimaginable as it is, that's what I see."

He scoffed. "Don't tell me you're in love with me, sweetheart. 'Cause I sure as hell know those things don't happen within a day."

"I – No," she shook her head. "I'm not in love with you but I do want to be your friend if you let me."

"Sweetheart, just because we... love each other in the future, it don't mean it's gonna be the same for us when we get back," he said. "You're thinking of cause and effect but we're talkin' about time. We're _here._ It means time's already unstable. You throw something into the equation anything can happen. Being married could just be _one_ of the realities or there could be others. You get what I'm saying?"

"No, not really," Effie scowled. "You're just making things difficult to distract me."

"Think about it for a second here, you saw us in thirty-five years' time, happy and in love, and you're going to do what? You're going to force it? You're going to force yourself to _feel_ something for me? You expect me to do the same?"

"I know you're not stupid, Haymitch," she spoke. "What you see from them isn't something forced. We have years in front of us. Feelings developed. You're right, it doesn't happen in a day but given time...And you've said it yourself," she offered him a smile, "that you don't hate me. That's a step up from where we were two weeks ago."

There was no end in sight to this conversation and there would not be one. They could talk all night long and it would still go round in circles as to whether what they feel now would eventually change and if it did, how?

Haymitch exhaled and rubbed his face. "Go to sleep, Trinket. Please," he added just so she would release him from this conversation.

"I'm scared, Haymitch," she admitted, still sitting cross legged on the bed.

He groaned in frustration and turned to lie on his back, tossing her an annoyed look.

"What the fuck is it this time? You want me to check under the bed for monsters? In the closet for ... whatever it is that hides in there? This isn't your first night here. Close your eyes and _stop_ thinking."

"I think something is going to happen to me in the future," her voice wavered and _that_ caught his attention. He sat up again. "Something terrible is going to happen to me before I even get to this particular timeline and I'm _terrified_."

"Are you going to – Trinket, come on, don't cry," he grimaced. "Okay, alright, what do you want me to do? What do you need? Tell me. Chocolate covered strawberries? I think I saw some in the fridge. Wine?"

If he thought that would make her feel better, it only grew worse. Effie started heaving, choking back sobs.

"She said I'll be safe with you. She said -" Effie inhaled deeply, desperately trying to control her emotions.

"Sweetheart," he tried again.

"What if it's President Snow?" Effie raised her head, her eyes wide with fear. "What if somehow... I've never known a Capitol woman to marry a District man. What if I was punished because of that? Or you?"

"Trinket," he raised his voice to get her attention. "You're safe. You'll be safe. Whatever it is, Mrs. Abernathy must be right. I must have kept you safe enough that this future happened. Look, we don't always see eye to eye but I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Okay?"

"Okay," she wiped the tears with the back of her hands. "Okay but -"

"Come on, sweetheart, don't cry. I'm not good with crying women."

"Then get your future-self. He's two doors down," she sobbed. "Mr. Abernathy's nice."

"Nice? He's an ass. Hell no," he shook his head. "I ain't calling him. You got me. I'm here."

He reached out for her, his fingers curling on her upper arm. Effie's eyes followed the movement of his hand and when it touched her, she stared at it for a long time,

"You okay?"

"I could use a hug," she whispered.

Haymitch wasn't one to hug but the woman in front of him had held herself together amazingly well considering what had happened and he couldn't blame her for finally cracking. So he brought his arm around her and that was enough for Effie to lean into him, pressing her face into his chest.

"Nothing will happen to you," he told her, propping his chin on her head. "Trust me."

"I do. You're a good man, Haymitch. You're extremely rude and insulting to me but you have a good heart. It's just - You can't lie to me, Haymitch. Something will happen to me. I know it in my soul."

XxX

There was a weight on him which turned out to be Effie's head using his chest as a pillow. Her leg was hooked over his and her arm wrapped around his torso.

 _This must be what they call cuddling,_ he thought to himself.

There was no possibility of him extracting himself without waking her up.

"Hey," he shook her shoulder lightly, voice rough with sleep.

That was a mistake. Effie stretched, lithe as a cat, her hand brushing against the front of his hip. His breath hitched and he jerked his hip away, averting his gaze. He felt her froze when she realised what happened and pulled away from him with a grin.

Haymitch cleared his throat. He tugged the head scarf low over her head, covering the strands of blonde hair that had escaped from the night. He didn't need her to throw a fit early in the morning because he saw her hair.

"Mr. Abernathy," they heard someone calling out from outside the house. "Delivery for you, Mr. Abernathy."

Haymitch swung his legs over the bed and went to the window to see his older-self accepting a parcel from the postman. Moments later, the sound of his footsteps ascending the stairs could be heard and Haymitch pulled the door open to intercept him.

"What's that?"

"From Finn," Mr. Abernathy explained, "it's for Beetee, for the watch."

Haymitch pulled a shirt hanging behind the door and with Effie hot on his heels, they followed the older man up to the attic.

"All the parts that Beetee need… They're in there?"

"Won't know," Mr. Abernathy reply. "Gotta ask Beetee about it. Guess we'll find out soon enough. Finn didn't leave a note out for me to read."

"You talk about Finn and Beetee who's here," Haymitch spoke, completely unaware that the 'Finn' Beetee and his future-self were referring to was not the fourteen years old Finnick Odair currently fighting in the Hunger Games in his own time. "You don't talk 'bout Chaff. Never heard you mention him, not once. I'd ask about Mags but I'm too far out in the future for her to make it through. Chaff okay?"

The older man grunted something under his breath.

"Did he have a fit when you got married and had a child?" Haymitch pressed on. "A nice laugh, maybe?"

"You really are curious this morning," Mrs. Abernathy emerged from her bedroom. The parcel in her husband's hand caught her attention. "Oh, has it arrived?"

The presence of the four of them was not something Beetee was expecting. He was hunched over the desk with a piece of wire in his hand. Mr. Abernathy slid the parcel over to him which he immediately tore open.

"That's everything," Beetee nodded in satisfaction. "Good kid."

Effie took a seat on a stool, peering at the parcel curiously. "How long more will it take for you to fix the watch?"

"Not long now. You'll be back where you belong before you know it," Beetee assured her.

Haymitch crossed his arms over his chest, thinking through the details. "Will anybody notice that we're gone?"

"Hopefully not. If I do it right, I should be able to send you back to the exact time that you left. It could be off by a minute or so but nobody will be aware."

"Did we get back at exactly the time or did we miss the mark by a large margin?" Haymitch turned towards his other self.

It was Mrs. Abernathy who answered. "We arrived back smoothly. You and Effie should, too. Still, you must be wary of crossing paths with your past selves minutes before the watch brought you here."

"When we return, it will be like nothing ever changed?" Effie asked.

"Yes," Beetee affirmed. "Nobody will know what happened. Except me, of course, because Haymitch, you are going to return that watch to me and we're going to destroy it. Nobody else should know about this watch, understand?"

"And," Effie bit her lip, "how long… How long more before Katniss and Peeta comes along? Mr. Abernathy, you told me they are important but you never said which year they'll be our tributes."

"I can't tell you too much, Effie," Mr. Abernathy squeezed her arm apologetically. "You already know too much. You know 'bout Katniss and Peeta, you know about us and Aria. You know the Games will end and Panem will change. It's too much. I can't risk it."

"What's wrong with that?" Haymitch pestered. "The knowledge we have could help end the Games, make damn sure it happens and all that. It could be useful. Hell, maybe we are supposed to know so -"

"Paradox," Beetee interrupted. "There's this concept of a temporal paradox and you being here could have created a few of them already without anyone being the wiser."

"Fine," Haymitch said not wanting to argue in something he had little knowledge in. "This Katniss and Peeta, they got somethin' to do with the war, the one that the Rye boy was talking about the day we arrived? 75th Games, yeah?"

"It will begin with a volunteer," the older Effie said but there was something in her voice that made Haymitch wary. "That's all, nothing more shall be said on the subject of Katniss and Peeta."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the 65th Games, the mine accident hasn't happen yet so Haymitch has no idea that Aspen will die in a few years' time. In fact, Haymitch doesn't know a lot of people who are going to die, poor soul.
> 
> I would also like to apologise because I know in the beginning of the story I said that there will be 7 chapters but as I was editing, it naturally expanded and to cramp everything into the next final chapter would be too rushing. I will try to cap it to 10 chapters at most but this means you get extra chapters so yay?


	7. Tell Them I'm Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you have a moment of panic when you saw the title of this chapter? Did she kill somebody? Is someone going to die?

 

**Chapter 7: Tell Them I'm Dead**

With the news that they would be leaving soon, Effie was in a much better spirit. She chose to be positive and focused on getting home instead of the fear of what might happen to her in the future.

Beetee gave them daily updates and Effie was an enthusiastic recipient of the news. Haymitch was a different matter and his behaviour did not go unnoticed by her. For days now since the arrival of the parcel, Effie had been watching him with something akin to puzzlement.

"I thought you'd be thrilled by the news. We can go home soon, Haymitch, back to a time where things makes sense, as you once said."

He lifted his eyes to her briefly before he made a calculated move on the chessboard that left a frown on Effie's face.

"For you, maybe. I don't have a home in that time line. Nothing to be excited about. _This_ is as close to a home I've had since – Well, your move, Trinket."

Effie ignored the game. "Haymitch?"

"Your move," he insisted, trying his best to ignore his own slip up earlier. "Are you gonna play or are you just gonna stare at me? Oh, great," he groaned when Effie pushed the board away and scooted forward on the bed so that she was sitting directly in front of him.

Her hand was on his arm and he felt the warmth of her palm. Uncomfortable, he got up and moved away, pacing the room.

"You can't stay here," Effie told him. "You can't, Haymitch."

"I didn't say anything 'bout staying."

"You don't have to. I can tell, I know what you're thinking," she sat at the edge of the bed, watching him. "You're considering it."

"I live in a hell-hole, sweetheart," he released a breath, admitting the truth that had been gnawing at him since he arrived. "This house... You saw it each time you get me for the Reaping. You saw the state of it."

"Haymitch..."

"You don't get to say anything. When we get back you've got a family to go back to, yeah? A nice fucking apartment, a life. Yeah, see, sweetheart, that's the difference between you and me. I got nothing."

"You have nothing here either," she pointed out. "You don't belong in this reality, not yet. _We_ don't belong here. There is a time and place for everything, and _this_ isn't your world. This belongs to the sixty-six years old Haymitch, not yours. Mrs. Abernathy is not your wife. Aria is not your daughter. Katniss and Peeta are not your neighbours or your friends. We need to go back so all of that will be possible."

Haymitch took a shuddering breath. He knew that. He knew it all but it didn't change the fact that he was _dreading_ the trip home. He didn't want to go back to a life where the Games were still being played, where he would fail two of his kids again, where the Capitol still had control and his every movement watched. He had tasted freedom and peace, and he was not willing to let it go.

"Haymitch…"

He pressed his forehead against the window pane, his breath fogging the glass.

"You're District Twelve's mentor," Effie tried again. She pushed herself off the bed and walked towards him. "You cannot just disappear."

"Can't I?" he gave a derisive chuckle. "Go back to the 65th Games and cook a story or… something. Tell them I'm dead. Alcohol poisoning …. That'll work, sweetheart, that's believable. Just tell them I'm dead."

Haymitch heard her sigh.

"What then, Haymitch?" she asked. "What's going to come after? What are you going to do?"

She wasn't asking because she was curious. She was indulging him. Effie knew his mind was playing with that scenario, that he needed to get it out of the system and talked it out, before he could truly accept that staying here would not work.

"You were the one who told me about the butterfly effect. Whatever we do, it will ripple out to the future. If you choose to stay here, Haymitch, I can easily return to where we came and tell them that you died. People would, of course, want to see the body. But you, Haymitch, you'll have to spend the rest of your life in hiding. There's a reason we keep the curtains in this bedroom closed, a reason why we peek through it to see outside. You can't be seen walking around Twelve. Is that a life that you want? That's not freedom."

"It's better than the Games," he told her, arguing with her for the sake of it.

"I don't know much about time travel but logically, if you stay, then all of this will fall apart and unravel. I'll be in the 65th Games and you'll be here. There will be no Aria. Katniss and Peeta might not win without you as their mentor. You are important to the timeline you're about to return to."

Haymitch gritted his teeth. Effie was right. This wasn't his place or his time. He would get here eventually but that would be years and he just… He ran his fingers through his hair, agitated and tensed.

"You need to come back so that we can have this in the future. Come back with me, Haymitch, please."

Haymitch turned around abruptly. Effie was standing a few feet away from him, pleading with the hope that he would see reasons. He saw her reasons, he understood her rationale deduction and he was aware of the logical ramifications if he were to stay behind but he wanted something more, something to ground him.

Acting on instinct, he closed the distance between them, his fingers closed around her upper arm and he tugged her forward just as his other hand grasped her chin to tilt it up, kissing her hard. Her lips remained closed, her eyes opened in shock and yet, Haymitch did not yield.

"Effie," he murmured raggedly, his breath rolling against her lips.

She was never Effie. She was always 'sweetheart' or 'Trinket' and the rare use of her name made her gasp and then she was kissing him back, her lips working against his. When she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, Haymitch grunted and pulled her flushed against him.

He curled his fingers at the nape of her neck to deepen the kiss, mindlessly pushing her back without breaking contact. She was clutching the front of his shirt, her tongue massaging his in a way that left him giddy and wanting more. She fell backwards on the bed when her knees hit the bed post.

Haymitch stroke the skin of her cheek, staring intently into the blue eyes. His hand was next to her head, supporting his weight and Effie was gripping on to it, her thumb brushing against his inner wrist.

"I want to see you," he rasped, leaning down to place a kiss below her earlobe. He nudged the head scarf with his nose. "Let me see. Take it off and let me see."

"Haymitch," she swallowed.

He rested his forehead against hers.

"I've seen you at sixty years old. Let me see you, Effie. You don't have to hide."

Rolling off her, Haymitch sat back and waited, giving her time. If she refused, he wouldn't press it any further. But Effie raised her hands and with trembling fingers, undid the knot on her head. He never took his eyes off her as she tugged the cloth away, letting the blonde curls tumble around her shoulders.

Effie averted her gaze away. He cupped her cheek and his thumb swiped the powder across, leaving slightly pale freckled skin exposed. She closed her fingers around his wrist and pulled it away and he understood. She had given him all that she was willing to expose and he shouldn't ask for more. So he ran his fingers through her hair, feeling the smooth silky locks.

"You're beautiful," he told her, "now and in thirty five years' time."

"You were checking my future – "

He kissed her, swallowing her sentence to shut her up. Haymitch pushed her on her back and trailed his lips across her jaw and down her neck, nipping lightly on the skin there. Her nails raked against his scalp and his hips jerked forward, pressing against her stomach.

When he lifted his head to collect himself, she was looking at him, eyes clouded with lust.

"I wanted to know what's in it for me in the future," he murmured. "When we go back it's gonna be shit but you're a fucking great kisser – that old man wasn't lying - and I think I'm gonna enjoy it."

It made her shudder but she said nothing except to pull him down and kissed him again. His hands roamed under her blouse, ghosting the side of her rib cage while she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.

His knee was between her thighs and he shoved his hand between her legs to feel her. Effie keened and arched her back, pressing herself against his hand, seeking for more friction. He was stroking her, feeling her soak through her lace panties when he stilled at a sudden thought and broke the kiss, pulling his hand away.

Effie whimpered at the loss of contact and tugged the collar of his shirt to bring him down to her again but he gripped both of her wrists in his and this time, her eyes focused on him.

"How old is Aria, sweetheart?"

She blinked, her brows crinkling together. "Let's not talk about her when we're in this state. Kiss me," she ordered.

 _Bossy_ , he mused.

"I need you to think, Effs, how old is she?"

"Effs," she licked her lips and purred. "That's new but I like that."

"Come on, focus," he shook her lightly.

The sexual tension was slowly dissipating and she pouted. "Seventeen or eighteen, she's about there."

While he wasn't sure how she came to know of that information but he was sure she had pried it out of Mrs. Abernathy, Haymitch did the math in his head.

"I'll be forty-eight when you're pregnant with our kid. Whatever war that's on the 75th Games, it should long be over. Sweetheart," he sat back, releasing his hold on her wrists, "I don't think we got married to cover the shame of you carrying her. Maybe…"

The words were stuck in his throat and he couldn't say it. Haymitch leaned against the headboard, his shirt half unbuttoned. His gaze travelled to Effie with her hair mussed, her pale pink lipstick smudge and lips slightly swollen and breasts heaving. He had never seen such an enticing sight such as that. Her blouse was rumpled where he had bunched them up earlier. He tugged it down to cover her stomach

"We shouldn't do it," he told her and he thought perhaps he was imagining the disappointment in her eyes. "We shouldn't risk Aria being born early, too early in a different timeline. I don't have a condom, sweetheart, and I ain't going out there to ask _him_ for one."

"No," Effie nodded with a small laugh. "You're right and he wouldn't let you live it down."

"Yeah."

"And I, uh," she flushed and bit her lip. "I haven't been on the pill since we've arrived. I don't have it with me."

Haymitch chuckled. "Yeah, 'course you don't. Look, it's still a possibility when we get back, yeah? I mean you want to right?"

There was something hopeful in the tone of his voice. Effie straddled him and wound her arms around his neck.

"Yes," she mouthed, lips inches away from him. "You have to come back with me. When the time comes, both of us are going back."

He chased her lips and kissed her, and that was enough for her. The kiss quickly grew heated; rough, demanding and with teeth. His hands were splayed on her lower back, pushing her to him and she was working him into a state with her kisses. If that went on, he thought, he wouldn't have cared about condoms or pills and he would have gone back on his words because he had his arms full of her and she was irresistible.

If he was being rationale, he would have been horrified how hormonal they were both acting but they were so lost in each other and he was about to pull her blouse off her when his future-self walked in on them.

Effie screamed and jumped back from Haymitch, pulling on her blouse and wiping her face. Mr. Abernathy stood rooted to the spot, eyes wide open as he stared at them but he recovered fast, replacing the shock with a grin.

"Don't you know how to fucking knock?" Haymitch snapped.

"Do you?" Mr. Abernathy shot back and then his grey eyes grew brighter, filled with mirth. "I get why you're mad. You're getting lucky or about to get lucky after all. You want to carry on? I can wait and watch, no problem."

"Get out," Haymitch snapped.

"Just a joke," Mr. Abernathy laughed, raising both hands up but instead of leaving, he flopped down on the armchair. "I knew putting you both in the same room was gonna create some sexual tension but kid, you're doing well. You need anything? Condoms or something? I didn't travel into the future with a box of it, guess you didn't either."

"Hang on a minute, you seem surprised walking in on this," Haymitch stood up once he felt that there was enough room in his pants to avoid any embarrassment.

"I am 'cause I sure as hell don't remember makin' out – "

Haymitch winced at the choice of his words.

"- in this room," Mr. Abernathy told him. "Fact is, the first time I saw Effie without her wig wasn't even in this room. It was at the Capitol. No wig, no make-up. It was during – Well, best not to say too much."

"What are you saying?" Haymitch frowned although he already had his suspicion.

"I think what I went through when I was in your place doesn't necessarily mean you did too. Like what's happenin' now. This is interesting."

"When did you first kiss her?"

"Penthouse, at the rooftop," Mr. Abernathy answered. "We were arguing, naturally. Had to shut her up, right?"

"Did you have an argument," Effie glanced at Haymitch briefly before turning once more to Mr. Abernathy, "about … about the future in this room? In the middle of the night…"

The older Abernathy tilted his head to the side, remembering. "Yeah, we did. You were scared 'bout what's gonna happen to you…You're talkin' about that one?"

"Yes," Effie affirmed. "Did it start because of the bolster I always keep between us?"

"Nah," Mr. Abernathy shook his head, then he started laughing in earnest. "That how you've been sleepin' all this time? What are you – little kids?"

"How'd _you_ sleep when you travelled into the future?" Haymitch retorted.

"Right here," his future-self replied, tapping the armchair, "before Effie invited me to share the bed, said there was no point destroying my spine."

There was a shared look of confusion between Haymitch and Effie.

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Effie looked at Mr. Abernathy. "I was … I was under the impression that what we went through over the past days, weeks, you've been through the exact same situation."

"Situation, yeah, on the whole, but I'm thinking, maybe not the details. From what you're tellin' me, it shows that events don't or won't unfold _exactly_ the way we'd expect them to."

"That's reassuring," Haymitch rolled his eyes, "so there's no guarantee we'd get to _this_ exact future thirty-five years from now."

"I told you that nobody knows how time works. This could just be _one_ of the realities of the future. Thing is, kid, don't lose hope. I have a theory. I think time has a way to correct its course so the important events, those big ones, like you being thrown into the future or that intense argument you both had which I could hear two doors down by the way would happen eventually."

"Right," Haymitch shook his head. "The more I think about the future the more it's giving me a damn headache."

"Best to just let it unfold," Mr. Abernathy advised. "Since you're both already making out, I'm guessing it's possible that you're gonna fall for her much earlier. Didn't happen to me until later, much later into the future."

"What if I don't? Love her, I mean," Haymitch asked.

"I am right _here_ ," Effie reminded them.

"You can't resist her," Mr. Abernathy snickered.

"I'm being serious," Haymitch glared at him. "Lusting after someone and … and loving them ain't the same damn thing."

"I already said I think the important things will happen. It's just the minor details that differ from your experience and mine. What was it that Effie said days before? Fate, was it? If it's your fate, kid, then that's what it'll be."

"You're a crazy old man," Haymitch muttered. "What business do I have now or in the future talking about fate? It's like you're not me _at all._ "

"People change," Mr. Abernathy shrugged with a grin. "You're going to change so much you'll be able to wake up at three in the morning and change Aria's dirty diapers without making a fuss."

Haymitch pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled deeply. "What is it that you want comin' in here?"

"Ah, yeah, about that… Beetee finished repairing the watch."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haymitch doesn't want to leave, he knows it's not possible but the guy just needed some motivation. So what do you think of this chapter? Let me know :)


	8. Leaving The Future and Into The Present

**Chapter 8: Leaving the Future and Into the Present**

His nerves were wired and he was too tensed to fall asleep. The empty bottle of whiskey next to his side of the bed did a poor job of calming him.

All he could think about was returning back to the 65th Games and to their boy tribute still alive in the arena. It felt like a lifetime ago and once he returned, he was expected to pick up where he left off. He couldn't even remember the boy's name except for the haunted Seam grey eyes that stared back at him in the train on the way to the Capitol after Effie had reaped his name.

He turned his head. Effie was asleep, her blonde hair spread like a halo around the pillow. Haymitch raised his hand to brush her hair back but mid-way through, he stilled. He sat up and the movement caused Effie to stir, mumbling something incoherent under her breath but otherwise, she remained oblivious to the conscious world.

Leaving the room, Haymitch wandered aimlessly in the house until his feet brought him towards the attic. The room was illuminated by a single lamp and Beetee was asleep on the sofa bed. Haymitch entered the room, surveying his surroundings when he spotted the watch on the work table.

Curious, he went over. The watch was different. The interface was larger with two buttons on its side. Where the old watch had the aesthetic of a normal watch with its hours and minutes hand visible, this digital one was blank. There was no numbers to indicate the time.

Haymitch picked it up, turning the watch in his hands.

For a long time, he studied it, trying to understand the function of the two buttons. If he could just make it work, he could travel to the 75th Games. He could find out what would happen to Effie.

_I can stop it before it happens and she wouldn't have to worry 'bout anything._

"Please be careful with it, Haymitch," Beetee spoke softly. "Pressing the wrong button will activate the watch's self-destruct function."

Startled as he was to be caught, he collected himself and placed the watch the way he found it on the work table. He turned around to see Beetee moving off the sofa bed and onto his wheelchair.

 _Injured during the war,_ he remembered Beetee telling him when asked.

"Didn't mean to wake you up."

"I am a light sleeper," Beetee offered him a smile.

"A self-destruct function?" Haymitch asked. "Is that truly necessary?"

"Absolutely. We don't want other time travellers moving through all of space and time, do we? Is something troubling you, Haymitch? You look deep in thought."

Haymitch shrugged.

"Been thinking about somethin'. Between you and me, is it possible if you send me to the 75the Games? We can do it now before you send us back to our own timeline tomorrow. Teach me how to use the watch - I'll be back here before anyone notice I'm gone."

Beetee adjusted his glasses, surprised by Haymitch's request.

"Why, if I may ask? There is nothing in the 75th Games. Nothing."

"Something's going to happen in that year and it's scaring the shit out of Effie. She said... She said something 'bout the future. I think Mrs. Abernathy let it slipped that some bad stuff is gonna happen to her."

"How can you be certain it was during the 75th Games?"

"I'm not. I'm guessin'. I overhead that boy – Rye – talking about the war which happened during the 75th Games. If anything's gonna happen to her, that time period will be a good place to start."

"What if it's not during the 75th Games?" Beetee tossed the suggestion back at him. "Are you going to jump from one year to the next until you find her?"

Haymitch glared at him. "Stop playing games. You've been through it all. You can point me in the right direction."

"I'm afraid that is out of the question. I am sorry, Haymitch. I cannot do what you're asking. It's too risky especially during that time period that you want to go to. You cannot under any circumstances be seen _at all._ The 75th Games is a perilous time. You risk being capture and if you do, it will throw the whole war away."

"I ain't gonna go looking for me. It's Effie I want."

"Even if you find out what will happen to her, you _cannot_ change it," Beetee shook his head. "Effie is a strong woman, have some faith in her."

"Bullshit. I can stop her from suffering. She's a bit of a pain – stubborn and selfish, sometimes - but I'm fucking certain she didn't deserve the suffering she's gonna go through."

"You don't understand the science behind the law of time and space, and it will take me weeks to explain it you. But what you're attempting to do will not be a ripple anymore. You will change the entire fabric of reality. You will save her eventually, trust me. It will all work out and you will get _here_ to this time."

"What difference does it make? I'm here. I've already broken through the norms."

Beetee regarded him carefully before he sighed. "We have no idea how you being here will impact the past which will then impact the future, which is why we've tried to keep you contained to this house, tell you as little as possible."

"Not working out so well, is it?"

"Will it ease your mind to know that Effie went through all that she went through to get here where she is today? What if you were to change something which would then change everything that follows afterwards? I am strongly advising you against it. Besides, my hands are tied."

"What do you mean?"

"I re-programmed the watch so that only _one_ trip through time is possible – back to the 65th Games. It is set to that timeline and that time only - nothing else. It'll minimise the risk of any further time jump and make sure you get back to where you need to."

"Fuck," he cursed, "you could have told me that earlier instead of letting me argue with you. You people are really something when you're old," he scowled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll let you sleep."

"I just wanted to see how far you'd go for her."

XxX

He returned to the bedroom in a much fouler mood then when he left it. Effie was sitting on the bed, panic-stricken, looking around desperately until she saw him standing at the door.

"What's the matter?" he frowned, not willing to deal with any problems for the night.

"I couldn't find you next to me and I thought... I though you left without me. I thought I was stuck here. You gave me a fright," she chided him.

"Don't blame me, sweetheart, for your penchant to be melodramatic. How the hell could I leave without bringin' you back with me? Those two," he jerked his head towards the direction of the room where their future-selves were sleeping, "would make sure you'd be there."

"Where did you go?"

"Kitchen - water," he answered.

"Are you alright?" She asked as he climbed back into bed. "You seem... I'm not sure exactly but - "

"I'm fine. Go back to sleep. Big, _big_ day tomorrow, right?"

XxX

Outside the window, through the cracks of the curtain, he could see Willow running down the streets with her friends, cackling madly in glee. All throughout the district, the streets were alive with celebration. Firecrackers went off every few minutes, a child was holding on to some sparklers down the streets and Rye was sitting on a low hanging tree branch with a colourful face paint. In District Seven, Aria and her Aunt Jo was in a similar state, a conversation he overheard that morning.

When he asked, no one would say what the celebration was for so he was left to make his own guesses. At this point, there was only one occasion which could warrant such a massive celebration in the districts – the end of the Games.

Haymitch wasn't one to actively search for company and socialise but right now, he wanted nothing more than to leave the house and be on the streets, to feel what it was like to not be oppressed. It was a hopeless wish so he moved away from the window.

He circled the living room, his hand brushing the back of the sofa before he finally came to a stand in front of the fireplace. He studied the photographs on the mantelpiece, the same photos that had rendered him speechless when he first appeared in this timeline.

One of those photographs caught his eyes so he picked it up, staring it. It was a family photo. He was in it as was Effie together with a very young Aria. He wasn't very good with children so he couldn't hope to guess Aria's age when the photo was taken but she had a toothless smile and a hint of a dimple on her right cheek. A tuft of blonde hair could be seen from under the blue beanie she wore. Aria was staring straight into the camera, her eyes bright and lively. She was sitting on his lap while Effie was on his other side. In the photo, Haymitch wasn't looking at the camera but his gaze was focused solely on the girl.

"How old do you think she is?" Haymitch asked when he felt Effie's presence next to him.

"A few months, six or seven, I think."

Turning the frame over in his hand, Haymitch pried the cover off and took the photo out. He folded it in half and pocketed it.

"I don't think that's very wise," Effie laid a hand on his arm. "If someone in our timeline were to find it - "

"I ain't gonna lose it, sweetheart," Haymitch told her. "I just – The old man warned me that I might forget what it's like to be here and all I'll remember is ... The Games will still exist when we get back. Nothing's gonna change, you understand? We're going to lose two kids year after year after year until ... them," he jerked his head towards Katniss' and Peeta's house. "If I'm going to have to bring two body bags home, then I need somethin' to - "

"Remind you that something good will come out of it," Effie nodded in understanding. "Hope."

"Yeah, yeah, that," Haymitch licked his lips.

"Haymitch, when we get back - "

Effie broke off. They could hear voices in the hallway. Haymitch listened to Mr. Abernathy telling someone about joining them in the Meadow later. When the door closed, Mr and Mrs Abernathy together with Beetee entered the living room.

"You both ready?" Mr. Abernathy asked.

"Yeah, guess so," Haymitch shrugged, "unless you want to keep us around a little longer."

"Nah, kid, I got places to be," Mr. Abernathy grinned at him.

"Right," Haymitch rolled his eyes.

He turned towards Mrs. Abernathy but before he could say anything, the petite woman had already embraced him. Haymitch stiffened instinctively but once he had gotten over the shock, he stooped down slightly and patted her back. She squeezed him tight before stepping away from him a second later, a hand on his cheek.

"You mean so much to me," Mrs. Abernathy told him.

That admission took him by surprise and Haymitch couldn't look her in the eye. He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"You are a good and honourable man. Now you listen to me, don't you ever feel like you're not good enough for me or for anything. You need to find something you believe in and fight for it."

"Alright," was all he managed to say.

"Please know that one day, I will love you very much."

Haymitch swallowed thickly and gave her a curt nod. She stood on tiptoes and gave him a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Goodbye, Haymitch," she whispered.

He turned to look for Effie but she was in a similar state. He didn't know who initiated the hug but if her future-self was anything to go by, he would bet his money that it was Effie. She had her arms wrapped around Mr. Abernathy and Haymitch saw the older man dropped a kiss on her head.

"Any advice?" Effie asked.

"Stay alive."

Effie's eyes widened in alarm and he must have seen what that was causing because he winked at her. Effie gave him a nervous smile.

"Well, any advice on how to deal with you?"

"Hey," Haymitch frowned. "I didn't ask for advice on how to deal with _you._ "

"Maybe you don't like to be prepared, Haymitch, but I do."

"You're a cheat," he muttered as Effie laughed.

When Effie stepped back, Haymitch took her place.

"You wanted a handshake the first time we met," Haymitch extended his hand to his future self.

Mr. Abernathy smirked. He grasped Haymitch's hand to give it a strong, firm shake and then pulled him forward.

"You hold on tight to that photograph you stole," he kept his voice low and then his eyes strayed towards Effie, "and you keep her alive. There will come a time when you have to fight for her, when no side of the war will want her. You're all that she'll have."

Haymitch truly hated all these cryptic messages he had been hearing about the future. He didn't want to be guessing all his life but he knew if he asked for more, he would meet a brick wall.

"I will," Haymitch nodded. "Ready, sweetheart?"

Effie squeezed Mrs. Abernathy's hand and then moved to stand next to him with the other three occupants facing them.

As Beetee handed him the watch he said, "Press the top button. When you return, give it to my younger self, tell him to destroy it. He would likely want to know why the watch came back to him looking different and that's when you tell him what happened to you. He needs to know so that in thirty five years' time, he will be prepared when you both appeared."

"I can destroy it. You've got the self-destruct button, yeah?"

"You can but it is important that you give it to him. I can be quite... ambitious, shall we say? My younger self needs to learn not to create any more of it and if you give that watch to him, he will have an idea on how to repair the watch that your past self will hand him in thirty five years' time. Otherwise, you might just be stuck here for months."

"Right," Haymitch said. "Yeah, okay, makes sense."

"It was a pleasure to meet all of you," Effie said.

Haymitch gave one last sweeping glance around the room. He took in the of the homely atmosphere of the living room, the sounds of joyous celebration outside and the sight of his future self standing before him with an arm around his wife.

Mirroring the stance, Haymitch wrapped an arm around Effie's shoulder and held her close. The trip home would be as horrible as the trip here, he was sure.

Haymitch pressed the button. The last thing he saw was a pair of bright blue eyes - the wrinkles at the edges a mark of old age - smiling gently at him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be so delighted to hear your thoughts on this chapter :) Thanks for reading!


	9. The Regularly Scheduled Programming

The squeezing and stretching stopped.

Haymitch crashed and the pain shot up his shoulder. He gasped for breath, expanding his chest to get as much air into his lungs as possible before he heaved himself up with a grunt. He shook his hand to get the blood flowing and return some feeling to his fingertips.

He began to take stock, making sure that all of his limbs were intact and that he had not sustained any unwanted injuries and only then did he began to look around. Haymitch wrinkled his nose in distaste. The smell was familiar and after weeks of staying in a clean house with fresh air that did not stank of liquor, the smell was revolting.

The strewn of dirty clothes and empty bottles were testament enough for him to know that they were in his bedroom in Twelve's Penthouse.

Back again, he sighed when he caught sight of the digital clock displaying the date and time in the room. At least Effie will be happy 'bout being back here.

He startled at that thought.

Effie.

Haymitch turned, searching for her and in a blind moment of panic thought that he had left her behind in the future until he heard her moans. Effie was crumpled on the floor and it didn't look like she had made any effort o get up at all. He knelt next to her.

"You okay?"

"I am in pain," she replied, clutching her elbow.

He swept her hair back to see her eyes screwed shut and began to assess the situation. She was not bleeding which was a good sign. When he touched her hand and carefully extended it, apart from her constant moaning, it had full range of motion.

Being dramatic again, he concluded and decided that no immediate medical attention was necessary.

"Nothing serious, sweetheart,” he declared and stood up. “You can have that look at later. We’ve got things to do. Come on, get off the floor.”

He waited and grunted impatiently when she remained where she was, looking up at him helplessly with wide blue eyes.

Haymitch hauled her to her feet, an act she protested against.

"Oh, would it hurt you to be gentle?” she complained when she was finally standing upright. “That was horrible! It wasn't so bad when we went into the future, was it? Whatever did Beetee do to that watch?"

"No fuckin' clue," he answered honestly because Effie was right. The journey back had been a nightmare. "Saw somethin', did you?"

He swore he saw flashes of time - thirty five years' worth of it - as their bodies felt like it was squeezed and expanded and stretched before they eventually landed in their current timeline. None of what he saw made any sense to him since he could neither make head nor tail of any those scenes. One moment it was there and then the next, it was gone in a blink.

"I – I thought I saw myself in labour but I couldn't be very sure. It happened so fast. I saw a place... I don't know what it is. Everything was grey."

Haymitch grunted in assent.

"Thought I saw it, too, that grey place. I heard you talking 'bout pearls with two kids."

"Pearls?"

"Forget it," Haymitch mumbled.

"My elbow hurts from where it hit the floor," she complained. "Why didn't you hold on tight to me? Oh, and will you look at the mess in this room! Haymitch, honestly, you could have gotten an Avox to clean after you at least."

"Well, sorry, princess, that I didn't perform up to your standard," he snapped.

He was already looking around to make sure that his bedroom room was empty and that no Avox had noticed their sudden appearance. He didn’t want to try to explain that to anyone.

"Don't call me princess," Effie argued. "I have a name, as you are aware, since you've called me by it a few times now already."

"Yeah, whatever, sweetheart. We should go – check outside."

"I can't be seen like this," she gestured at herself. "The tabloids will have a field day."

Haymitch rolled his eyes.

Within minutes of them returning, she had already started to sound like the Effie he knew before this whole incident happened. Frankly, he thought, as he glanced behind his shoulder at her, he preferred her looking this way.

Her face was gentler and less severe without the heavy make-up. Her lips were not in painted an odd blue or gold. It was pale pink which made him want to kiss her lips and work it gently between his teeth to return some colour to it. She was wearing a red sweater and black tights that belonged to Aria but the sweater, especially, was faded with age.

She might be standing here in his bedroom, in the Penthouse of the Capitol but she looked nothing at all like a Capitol woman. She looked like she would fit right into his house in District Twelve. It made his heart clench and he forced the thoughts away.

"Nobody’s going to see you in the Penthouse. Look, I have other things to worry about other than how you look right now. We need to figure out if we've already left here for the future or if we're still in the Penthouse. You can stay here. I'll go see."

"I will come. I might be poisoned to death by the smell in this room if I stay here any longer."

"That clearly didn't happen," Haymitch muttered. "Still gotta to deal with your ass in the future."

"Language," Effie huffed. "You are not going to be difficult and rude and insulting now that we are back, are you?"

He could feel the warmth radiating off as she trailed closely behind him. Her hand was on his back so that she wouldn't lose him and he wondered how those palm would feel against his naked skin.

"I've always been difficult and rude and insulting," he retorted.

As they approached the living room, he could make out their voices. He stopped abruptly and Effie collided into him, moaning and rubbing her nose.

"Shush," he glared at her.

“You are insufferable and rude, and you have absolutely no respect for me at all.” 

Now that he was hidden behind a partition wall, out of sight, and watching from an outsider's perspective, Haymitch was only just realising how loud they could get when they were arguing. Judging from the affronted look on Effie's face, she just realised the same.

“I thought meeting our future selves was surreal but this is even more so,” she muttered. “This is unbelievably unreal.”

Haymitch had to agree with her. Watching himself in the same age separated only by a few minutes was not something he could put into words.

Are we the same age? I spent weeks in the future, that's weeks to my current age....

“Do I really look like that?” Effie tilted her head for a view, watching herself critically. “I think that dress suits me very well, in any case.”

"Yeah, great ass," he snickered and made a cupping, squeezing motion.

Effie smacked his hands way, complaining about rude and obscene gestures.

“What is your obsession with slapping me?” he muttered when the past Effie raised her hand to strike him for the third time during the course of their argument.

"You've got a pole so far up your ass that -"

Effie pursed her lips whether to his earlier question or to what his past-self just said, he wasn't sure. Her gaze was focused intently on the pair arguing before them.

Haymitch took his cue from her and watched and waited. Any second now….

“Don’t be so vulgar.” 

“We can stop it,” Effie whispered suddenly, clutching the sleeve of his shirt. “We can do something to distract ourselves – distract them - and... We’ll never travel in time.” 

“I’ve thought about it,” Haymitch admitted. “But it won’t work. If they don’t leave, they’ll be here and we’ll be here. It’s confusing, sweetheart, but you understand what I'm trying to say, yeah? They’re real and so are we, and …”

“I understand but -” she bit her bottom lip, worrying it between her teeth.

If their past selves did not travel forward then they would remain in the Penthouse which would mean that both their past and their current selves would exist in the same time frame indefinitely. At which point would their past and current selves merge?

“- you’re right, it is confusing.”

“We just need to wait until they’re gone and then… then we pick up where they left off.” 

“I don’t want to argue,” she told him immediately. “I don’t even remember what we were arguing about.”

Haymitch chuckled.

“Then don’t, sweetheart. I ain't asking you to literally pick up where they left off. Go to your room and change into the clothes you missed so damn much. Meet your friends, go to parties. Sleep in your own bed tonight without worrying ‘bout me next to you. In three days, I’ll have to leave to return to Twelve and everything will be back to the way it’s supposed to for you and me. Same old regular shit, y'know?”

Effie mulled over what he said and then right before their eyes, their past selves disappeared. Even if he was expecting it, the sudden disappearance still took him by surprise. The place where they were standing before was now vacant.

Haymitch stepped into the hallway as did Effie.

“I am wearing our future daughter’s clothes, Haymitch,” she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “I can’t go back to how things were. Something changed between us and we can’t just forget it.”

“Effie…”

"Can't we be friends?"

That question caught him off guard. It was such a simple, innocent question and one that he certainly was not expecting from her and it was the worse because he couldn't stop thinking about the way she straddled him in the guest bedroom while in the future, the way her lips felt as she kissed him, the heat from body when she pressed herself against him. He didn't want to be friends. He wanted to take her to his bed.

"We might not love each other yet but that doesn't mean we can’t be friends, yes?” she was looking at him hopefully and gave him a wan smile. “I’m not asking for much, am I? We can play chess together like we did in the guest bedroom while we’re hiding. I did quite enjoy playing with you. We can have meals together without arguing. We managed that in Mr. and Mrs. Abernathy’s house. I - I don’t want us to be strangers, not after everything.”

Haymitch ran his fingers through his hair and swallowed. What kind of person would he be to deny her that? Who would reject an offer of friendship when it was so genuinely given?

"We can try," he told her and the smile that split across her face made his lips twitched. "But I ain’t gonna be like all your other friends. Let's just be clear – I'm not going to follow you shopping or have high tea at some fancy places or something.”

She laughed, the joy was reflected in her eyes and she tempered it down by biting her lips.

“You’re the last person I’ll ask to go shopping with. I just … I don’t want to be alone here especially during the Games. Sometimes, it gets too much. I’d like to think that there’s a way for us to help each other – that's what friends do.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, not really counting on it. From his experience, nothing could truly help him deal with the Games. “I’m gonna get somethin’ to drink.”

He stepped back to try and get away from the conversation before she dropped another unexpected request but Effie side-stepped him and into his path. She retrieved the photo from the jacket packet.

The dried primrose he had plucked from the garden in the future timeline and had forgotten than he had kept it in his pocket all these while fell out and Effie picked it off the floor, looking a little curious.

"I – uh – got it from Katniss' and Peeta's garden."

"Ah, so that must be where you ran off to after you walked out on me," Effie mused and handed the flower back to him.

Effie ran the pad of her thumb over the picture of baby Aria.

"This is hope of a better tomorrow. You keep the photo of our family safe, Haymitch," she requested, "and I'll keep Aria's clothes with me. When she's old enough, I shall return what belongs to her. That way, we'll both have something of the future."

It clicked for him and his eyes widened imperceptibly. That would explain the faded look of the sweater. It had been passed down from one hand to another. Mrs. Abernathy had given Effie her daughter's sweater and Aria was given the same sweater from her mother who would one day be the same person standing in front of him. The origin of that sweater was murky.

Haymitch kept his thoughts to himself. One day Effie would realise the journey that sweater would go through.

"Alright," he agreed.

"Don't forget this," she waved the photograph. "When it gets too much for you, remember this."

"Yeah," he muttered uncomfortably. "I got to go find Beetee, sweetheart. Got to explain all these to him and make him destroy the watch."

Effie nodded. Her fingers curled on his arm. "The whole of Panem thinks you're a drunk and that you're hopeless. But I don't think you are. I think you'll play a very important role in the future and beneath this drunken mentor lies a good man."

She ended that speech by placing a kiss at the corner of his mouth. Haymitch inhaled sharply and his fingers twitched, itching to touch her.

Oblivious to his inner struggle, Effie took a step back and smiled. She had already turned to head back to her room when he grabbed her arm and spun her around, crashing his lips to hers. His hands fell to her waist and slid across her back, bringing her closer to him. Effie responded to the kiss by bringing her arms around him and sliding her tongue across his lips until they parted for her, and then he was lost.

Haymitch pinned her against the wall without breaking the kiss and used his hip to press against her, keeping her there. When she turned her head to the sides, breaking apart for air, he pressed kisses on the column of her throat. Her head fell back against the wall and she threaded her fingers in his hair.

"Friends... Haymitch, friends don't do this with each other," she panted, biting back a moan when his tongue swirled on her pulse point.

That was all she needed to say for him to still completely. He felt like someone had thrown a bucket of ice on him. Haymitch stepped back hastily, putting some distance between them.

"Sorry," he rasped, refusing to look at her. He rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to get his breathing under control. He should just walk away right now. "You should – Fuck. Sorry."

"Friends don't normally do that," she whispered but her fingers were on the hem of her sweater and Haymitch was riveted. He followed her movement as she pulled the sweater up and over her head.

To see her standing there clad only in a dark blue bra and black tights that showed off her long legs, her chest heaving, her lips slightly bruised and swollen, and her blue eyes bright and burning with such intensity made his breath caught. His heart was hammering in his chest and she wants this, she wants this, she wants this kept going off inside his head as if he was trying to convince himself. He didn't want to be wrong. He was aching to touch her.

“But we’ve never been normal,” she continued softly, looping her arms around his neck. “We’ve been to the future and in the future we – “

He clutched her waist and pushed her back against the wall. His eyes bore into hers, waiting for her to tell him to step back and to stop. But she jutted her chin out stubbornly.

"Kiss me."

He didn't need to be told twice.

XxX

The sheet was only covering up to her waist and it left her back exposed as Effie slept on her stomach. He had pressed kisses along her spine earlier, an act he wouldn't mind repeating, and he wanted to let his hand roam the expanse of her skin again except he remembered what she had told him once about leaving the bed after she was done, and since this wasn't his bedroom...

The mattress dipped as he rolled over. His pants was on the floor near the bedroom door. Sensing her gaze on him, he glanced up to see her watching him as he pulled on his pants.

It was good and we should do it again sometime, was what he wanted to tell her but he swallowed the words instead.

Knowing their future had complicated things and to insinuate that this was just sex might offend and insult her. Still, at the same time, he was yearning for something, an intimacy that his future-self shared with his wife. He had never harboured this sort of longing with any of the women he took to bed.

His shirt was nowhere to be found and he figured it must be out in the hallway. It didn't matter. He would grab it out his way out to Beetee's apartment.

His hand was on the knob when he hesitated. He supposed he should say something. She was awake after all and he couldn't just slip out. In the end, she beat him to it.

“This isn’t you running away, is it?” she asked him softly.

“I don’t think I can run away from you,” he murmured. “You’re in my future – no runnin’ away from that.”

She smiled and nodded, blinking sleepily at him and seemingly content with his answer.

"You don't have to go," she told him and extended her hand to him.

He didn't take her hand and she let it drop, a flash of dejection crossed her face but it was gone as soon as it came.

"Look, sweetheart," he started. "I don't know how it's gonna happen between us... how it's gonna play out... but I ain't – I ain't good with relationship. I don't know if that's what I want right now. I never had - "

“Haymitch, that's not what I'm asking from you. We don’t have to do anything,” she sat up, pulling the sheet up to cover her chest. “We can just… see how things turn out if that's what you're more comfortable with. I just... don’t want you to distance yourself from me after… after you’ve slept with me... It makes it feel as though – Well,” she beamed at him, dropping her words.

He released a breath. Effie was trying not to scare him and he could see right through it but in all honesty, what she was suggesting didn’t sound so terrible and daunting.

Haymitch took a step towards her.

“I want this,” he gestured at the bed, at the rumpled sheets and discarded pillows.

That was something he was sure about. Now that he knew what it was like to be with her, he wanted more. Once wasn’t enough and he didn’t think it would ever be.

“Maybe that’s how it started, sweetheart, maybe the sex… I don’t know…”

“Would mean something in the end?”

“Guess so… You fall first,” he chuckled. “That’s what our future-selves said, yeah? How else would it be?”

Effie hummed. She let her head fall back to the pillow and closed her eyes.

“You should see Beetee, Haymitch. We’ve delayed it long enough,” she waved him off tiredly. “We have a few days before you have to return to Twelve – I will arrange for your transport and the… paperwork for the tributes.”

Haymitch had the full intention of spending those three days in her bed, schedule be damned. They would not talk about the future or think about what might happen to them or how events would unfold over those three days. There was no point speculating and he would rather focus on what was in front of him, and the thought of her right now naked under the sheets was a powerful motivator.

“See you tonight,” he murmured.

It surprised her when he bend over the edge of the bed and pressed a firm kiss to her lips but soon her fingers were in his hair, holding him in place, and his hand was on the thin sheet covering her breast, kneading it until she arched her back.

When they broke apart, she was grinning. Haymitch smirked and left the room before any further distraction propped up.

XxX

District Three’s apartment was a mess. Beetee had worked himself into a state; cushions flew in the air, and a string of indecipherable mumbles and curses could be heard.

“Lookin’ for something?” Haymitch asked as he casually leaned against the door frame, watching everything.

Beetee glanced behind his shoulder and jerked forward when he realised who it was. The older man made a beeline for Haymitch.

“My watch,” Beetee demanded. “Did you take it back with you? I cannot seem to locate it and I knew I should have trusted my instinct and placed some sort of chip on it.”

Haymitch undid the strap of the watch from his wrist and let it dangled between two fingers.

“Hell of a thing you got here,” Haymitch said and threw it up in the air for him to catch.

Beetee turned the watch in his hands, a frown on his face as he noticed the difference. “What did you do to it?”

“I did nothin’. The watch did quite a thing on me and the question you should be askin’ is ‘what did I do to it?’ The ‘I’ in this means you – just so we’re clear.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Sit down," Haymitch ordered.

He began the arduous process of telling Beetee the story. He omitted details involving the future including the fact that he was married to Effie, learning about his future tributes and the end of the Games.

“So your.... Let me get this straight,” Beetee took a deep breath. “Future Haymitch contacted me in the future and that future me helped you repair the watch and while he was at it re-designed it?”

“That’s right.”

Beetee began scribbling on a piece of paper but Haymitch snatched it and threw it into the fireplace.

“Risky. What if somebody finds it?” Haymitch raised an eyebrow.

“How long were you gone?"

"A month, I think," Haymitch answered.

"A month…. You just left this place less than half an hour ago," Beetee commented, “after I first showed you this watch.

"Yeah," Haymitch shrugged. “We returned back here about two minutes before the whole incident happen. Saw it with my two eyes as Effie and I disappeared into the future.”

“Effie?” Beetee raised his head sharply. “That’s odd. You’ve never addressed her as such.”

“That’s not important to the conversation.”

“Well, are you absolutely certain Ms. Trinket will not betray our confidence?"

"Yeah, a hundred percent."

Beetee peered at him over the top of his glasses.

"How can you be so sure? As I recall, you are not exactly on the best terms with her. Sure, you think she’s a good escort, better than Amara Varvari but this confidence of yours – “

“I’ve seen the future, Beetee, and I trust her. You should trust me.”

"What happened between you two in the future? You’ve told me you met both of your future selves…”

“It’s not important – you shouldn’t know too much about the future. You need to listen to me,” Haymitch intoned. “You’ve got to study that watch so that when the time comes, you’ll know what to do and then you destroy it. You understand me? You destroy it. The button’s over there, like I’ve told you. And you know what? Show me the destroyed pieces so I know it’s done.”

“You should trust me,” Beetee shook his head.

“One more thing, Beetee, you don’t ever go to Effie and ask her about the future, alright?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of you have certain expectations on how they'd be when they return to the regular timeline so I hope you're not disappointed with this. A month in the future wouldn't be enough time for them to really fall in love with each other, it taught them something and started something between them.
> 
> The next chapter will be the last! So see you there :)


	10. Changing The Future

** Chapter 10: Changing ** **** ** the ** **** **Future**  

After the watch was destroyed, Haymitch began to put things in motion. Together with Beetee, they approached the Junior Gamemaker, Plutarch Heavensbee.

 

"Why should I trust you? And why would you trust me?"

 

"Smart question," Haymitch leaned back in his chair. "I did my research. You were arrested once in school and you disappeared for a good few months. All the records have now been erased but people talk, y'know? If you persuade them just enough, slip the right things in their pocket, they'd talk. If it was a petty crime, say stealin' or somethin', that record will exist. Nah, I think you said something dangerous, didn't you Heavensbee?"

 

"Blackmailing me will not get you anywhere. What is it that you want, Mr. Abernathy? If it’s something from the Games then I cannot help you, truly, I can't."

 

"Oh, I think you can. Look, I've been to the future," Haymitch said, a sentence that sounded crazy to his own ears but right on cue, Beetee showed the man the destroyed pieces of the watch. "If that's not evidence enough, I took somethin' from the future."

 

He revealed the photograph. Next to him, Beetee started. Plutarch was staring at it as if he couldn't quite believe it.

 

"That's a doctored photograph," Plutarch frowned. "That's your escort - Euphemia Trinket. Who is the child?"

 

"My daughter and yeah, that’s my escort ‘cept that she’s also my wife, in the future. You... You're going to be Uncle Plutarch. That's what my daughter called you."

 

He remembered the boy, Rye, who referred to Plutarch as such, but the Gamemaker didn't need to know that. It was the same difference.

 

This," Haymitch waved the photograph, "isn't going to come true if the Games doesn't end. Listen, Heavensbee, you ain't like the others, alright? You've been Junior for what? 10 years now? You haven't been promoted ‘cause you're soft on your job. Different Gamemakers come up with different traps in the arena, different mutts and yours... Yours are never quite as deadly as the others. You see those tributes as children. You _know_ they’re just innocent children."

 

"You have a group of friends, Mr. Heavensbee, that shares the same sentiment as yours," Beetee added. "We can work together. Your people and ours; Capitol and District. Not many people agree with the Games here in the Capitol but they're just too afraid to do anything so if it's not us, who then?"

 

All they asked was for Plutarch to be their eyes and ears but as the years passed, he became so much more to them. Plutarch had contacts and connections, and he was instrumental in contacting and liaising with District Thirteen. He was good at his job – planning and strategizing – and Haymitch recruited other Victors for him. Plutarch wanted Effie because her connections could be useful but Haymitch put his foot down. The lesser she knew, the better. Something was going to happen to her in the future and if he could minimise the risk he would do it.

 

His future-self had warned him and it was true.  His spirit grew weary as each year passed without the appearance of Katniss and Peeta. The Games worn him down. The guilt, the self-loathing and the helplessness crept under his skin and became front and centre as it had done before.

 

Apart from the movement that Beetee and him started which Plutarch now controlled, Effie was the only silver lining he had, a balm that soothed him. She was still difficult and a pain but at the end of the day, she was always there.

 

While he was not exactly sure what it was that he felt for her, the possessiveness that reared its ugly head when he saw her get too friendly with another man, sponsors usually, threw him off.

 

Losing a tribute would set off a familiar dance between them. Often, he would climb into her bed, seeking her comfort, and at times, it she would come to him. Getting lost inside of her became his favourite activity. His mind slowed down and he stopped thinking, and as his primal instinct took over, his pleasure and hers was the only important need.

 

There were moments when he thought about how unhealthy and toxic it was for them to make use of each other's body. Those thoughts never lasted because when he traced his finger down her spine and kissed her below her earlobe, she would sigh in contentment. If they were truly only using each other, she would leave instead of curling into him as if she had found a place she belonged before falling asleep, and he wouldn't have let her.

 

That was his problem. He let her get away with things. He let her snuggle and cuddle into him, he let her hold his hand when a tribute was murdered because it made him feel useful, he would squeeze it back to let her know that he was there for her, he let her talk and nag about his drinking until she turned blue in the face, he let her fall in love with him.

 

He remembered the night she whispered those words to him when she thought he was asleep; 70th Games, the third night after the Games started. The next morning after she left, he pulled out the photograph again. He had not looked at it after he had shown it to Plutarch and Beetee.

 

"Five more years," he muttered. "Something will happen then."

 

Effie was still Capitol. That did not change by much. She was still dressed in outrageous clothes and painted her face with vibrant colours but he had learnt to separate the Effie that was a front for the public and the woman that she was.

 

There were glimpses of the woman he knew from the future when she flashed him her _real_ smile or when she tenderly traced the planes of his face and kiss the scar on his stomach. He saw it in the moments when she waited up for him in the Penthouse when he leave at night with Chaff to a bar, the way her eyes strayed towards little girls on the streets and then to him.

 

She thought Aria was _their_ secret but he had shared that with Beetee and Plutarch. Eventually, when the 74 th Games rolled around, they had their own.

 

During the Reaping for the 74th Games, without truly intending to, Effie changed the course of the entire future and helped to set out the Rebellion which Haymitch had laid the foundation to for years now. He kept the knowledge of what she did to himself because that was the only way he could keep her safe.

Haymitch was slightly inebriated during that Reaping but he remembered trying to hug her in front of national television. Effie was annoyed and embarrassed, and he was absolutely certain she would lock her door to him that night.

Still, she gathered her wits and righted her wig before she tottered over to the microphone. It made him flinch when she tapped her fingers against it, making sure the microphone works.

 

After years of waiting for Katniss and Peeta to show up only to be disappointed, Haymitch was not expecting much. With the Third Quarter Quell looming and slated for the following year, and the war he had heard about inching closer, Haymitch had resigned himself to assume that Katniss and Peeta would be the Quarter Quell's tributes, just like he was. He wondered what was so special about them that made them so incredibly important, as Mr and Mrs Abernathy had insisted they were.

 

"Welcome, welcome to the 74th Annual Hunger Games," Effie chirped brightly.

 

He tuned out the rest of what she said. It was always the same speech leading to the video recording that explained the necessity of the Games. He kept his gaze on her as she started the reaping which was a good thing too because he saw the way her eyes widened when she read the name on the slip of paper.

 

Effie's voice echoed throughout the square.

 

"Primrose Everdeen."

 

Haymitch straightened in his seat and slowly, a singular thought emerged through this intoxicated, muddled mind.

 

_Wrong name. She's got the wrong name._

 

_Unless.... Aspen's daughters are going to be reaped one after another in different years._

A hush silence fell over the crowd when a small, petite young girl stepped out. Everyone could tell she was terrified and one look at her, Haymitch knew the girl wouldn't last in the Games.

 

The heat became too unbearable. Haymitch began pulling on the collar of his shirt. The beads of perspiration were rolling on his back and his shirt was sticking to his skin. Something did not sit right. Stomach churning, Haymitch tempered the urge to get Effie to read the paper _correctly_.

 

Then his entire body stilled. The voice of Mrs Abernathy, clipped and direct, rose amongst his memories.

 

_"It will start with a volunteer."_  

 

His brows furrowed. As soon as he thought of what Mrs. Abernathy had said all those years ago, right on cue, a dark-haired girl pushed her way through the crowd only to be held back by Peacekeepers.

"I volunteer. I volunteer!" the girl said firmly, her voice echoed throughout the Square as she struggled against the Peacekeeper's hold on her. "I volunteer as tribute!"

 

Twelve never had a volunteer before and as Effie conferred with the Mayor, she caught Haymitch's eyes. They shared a knowing look.

 

It was happening. This was the year Twelve would bring home victors.

 

"What's your name?" Effie asked the question that both she and Haymitch already knew the answer to.

 

"Katniss Everdeen."

 

"Well, I bet your hat that was your sister!"

 

He wanted to roll his eyes. He wanted to laugh.

 

_Stupid question, sweetheart._

 

The confusion was written plainly on Effie's face when the crowd raised three fingers in a salute. Effie had no idea what it meant but he did. When the crowd lowered their hands, Effie was still rooted to the spot, unprepared and caught off guard by the turn of events.

 

"Get on with it," he growled under his breath.

 

Startled, Effie walked over to the boy's bowl but something was clearly bothering her. She was deep in thought. He could see it from the screen and he knew her well enough to know what every frown and every downturn of her lip meant.

 

Distracted, Effie lifted a random paper. It remained in her hand, folded in her palm. Her eyes were wide and bright, her pupils blown open and when she raised her head, in a single breath, Effie called out a name.

 

"Peeta Mellark."

His gaze shifted immediately to the paper _still_ folded in the palm of her hand.

 

"Shit," he breathed out. "Damn it, Effie." 

There were countless things that were wrong with the scene.

 

Their future selves had never told them – or him, at least – both of the kids' last name. As far as he remembered, he wasn't told. Haymitch no idea that Peeta was a Mellark since he wasn't in the habit of socialising with others in District Twelve to even know their kids name.

 

Effie clearly knew and it wasn't because she had seen the boy's name from the paper moments ago. Effie had not even given the paper a single glance. She had not read the boy's name from the paper. She had called it out from memory.

 

The cryptic event that they had gathered from the future – a volunteer, a girl named Katniss, a boy named Peeta, two victors from the same year – were slowly falling into place and Effie, unknowingly, had set the it all in motion just because she had foreknowledge.

 

Later that night in the train, when she finally handed him the paper from the boys' reaping bowl, just as he suspected, it wasn't Peeta Mellark written on it. Allan Johnson was supposed to have been Twelve's tribute, another kid from the Seam.

"What have I done, Haymitch?" Her voice wavered and she covered her face with her hands.

 

"How did – How did you know his name, sweetheart? They were always just 'Katniss' and 'Peeta' to us."

 

"You told me," she let her hands dropped to her lap. "In the future, I mean. You said.... You said that you'll take Willow and Rye to their father's bakery after school. You told me the bakery's name – Mellark's Bakery, first corner on the left."

 

Sometime, he forgot that Effie's memory is sharp. If she could remember the wrongdoings an Octavia Lance did to her when she was eight, she would certainly remember minor details from the future.

 

"I never knew he's Eva Mellark's boy until today," Haymitch admitted.

 

That information surprised her.

 

"You never tried to find out about Peeta and Katniss when we returned from the future? You had nine years to find out."

 

Haymitch shrugged.

 

"I already knew who Katniss was. Her father was an old friend. I didn't find it necessary to go find out more 'bout them. I was curious, sure, but I don't wanna know more than I should. The future ain't set in stone – that's what Mr. Abernathy told me. Didn't want to get my hopes up."

 

Effie let out a breath and turned on her sides, facing away from him. Haymitch kicked off his shoes and socks, and discarded his clothes before slipping under the covers. He touched the swell of her hip tentatively and she rested her hand on top of his, pulling it over her until his fingers were splayed on her stomach. She burrowed against him and he could feel her shaking in his arms, trying to suppress her tears.

 

"It wasn't his name," she choked out. "I condemned him. I made a mistake and I condemned him."

 

"You can't think that way," he frowned and pressed a kiss on her shoulder. "He's meant to be reaped. It's not going to be Allan and Katniss. It's Peeta and Katniss – that's the future we saw. That's the two victors that we're going to get. You saved us, sweetheart. They're going to bring an end to this." 

She turned in his arms. The tears had gathered at the corner of her eyes and when she blinked, it rolled down her cheeks.

 

"I've never forgotten what Mr. Abernathy told me. Do you remember when I told you about it? You said it was a message from him, something he wanted us to remember and so I did. ' _Katniss and Peeta are important, Effie. They gave us this peace. They're important.'_ And Mrs. Abernathy mentioned a volunteer. Everything fits, Haymitch! Katniss volunteered. I thought... Well, I thought that if Katniss was already on that stage with us then it must be Peeta's name on that paper. The future -"

“I know, sweetheart, you don't have to justify it to me. I _know_.”

 

She began playing with the ends of his hair absentmindedly, coiling it around her finger and then brushing it away from his face.   

“It wasn’t his time. He's supposed to be at home with his family now, safe.  

“Maybe it's a fixed point in time," he speculated. "So he's supposed to be in the Games. The future will progress the way it is meant to. He'll live, Effie.” 

“Anything can happen in the Games. You and I both know that.” 

“Look, it’s happened," he told her gruffly. "It’s happened so don’t beat yourself up over it. What we need to do now is figure out how to get 'em out of the Games. I need you to work with me on this. Can you do that? Give me an angle to play with.” 

 

"Of course," she promised. "You and I, we're a team, aren't we?"

 

"Yeah. Go to sleep, sweetheart. Don't think about it."

 

Telling her not to think about it had not worked before and certainly would not work now. He was about to roll over and get a drink from the bar cart outside when her next question stopped him.

 

"Do you think this was how it happened for Mrs. Abernathy too or did it turned out this way because we went into the future and got to know that there was a boy... there will be a boy named Peeta? I've been thinking about it since the Reaping...."

 

Haymitch rubbed his temple with the heel of his palm. In the future, Beetee had talked about paradox and it was glaringly clear now that this was one of it. This was what future-Beetee had meant that by being in the future, they could cause changes without even being aware of it.

 

"I guess we'll never know. Think about it this way, Effie... Maybe it was worst for her," he suggested. "She must have known that a kid by the name of Peeta will be in the Games, just like you. She could have seen the name on that slip of paper first unlike you. She must have seen it was Allan Johnson, a different name, not Peeta. But she knew 'bout Peeta, yeah?And 'cause of that... 'cause she knows that in the future, Katniss and Peeta will be important, she might have even called out Peeta Mellark on purpose. What if she had done that, sweetheart, to make sure that the future stays the way it is supposed to?"

 

Effie was quiet for a long time.

 

"I don't know," she broke her silence. "That seems... harsh to knowingly put the boy in the Games...."

 

"Yeah, but you didn't do it on purpose, Effie. Things played out differently for you. You didn't condemn him the way intentionally calling out his name would have."

 

Effie pushed herself up, letting the covers pool to her lap. His eyes were drawn to the pert nipples beneath the thin nightdress. She was beautiful, he thought, with her honey blonde hair a little messy and the tip of her nose slightly red from crying.

 

"Please let me see it," she requested. "I need some assurance  that what I put Peeta through will be worth it in the end.” 

Effie had never asked for it before, even through some of the more brutal losses over the last nine years, which meant she was desperately longing for comfort. He swung his legs over the bed and went over to his room where he rummaged through his duffel bag and extracted the photograph kept hidden between the pages of an old book.

 

He returned to her bedroom and handed it to her. Effie stared at the family photo for a long time, taking in every little detail.

“Can you miss someone you've never met?" she wondered, staring at the little toddler on his future-self's lap. "Or want something so badly you'll do anything to have it?"

"Yeah, sure I do," he grunted. "Listen, Effie, nobody must know that you never read that paper before you call out the boy's name, you understand?"

 

The yearning in her eyes that the photo brought her disappeared in a flash and it was replaced instead by fear and worry.

 

"When those two kids win, and if people knew what happened today, they might say that you rigged the Games. They won't touch the boy because by then he'd be a victor but they'll go for you. I don't know what's going to happen to you between now and the end of the war, Effs, but I'm going to try and keep you safe best as I can."

 

He couldn't say the words as easily as she could, but she should know it in his acts and in the things he would do for her, and she did because Effie threw herself at him. She looped her arms around his neck and clung to him.

 

"I love you.”

 

 “I got you, sweetheart,” he murmured as he patted her back. The photograph was lying face up on the bed, staring at him. “The future will be just the way we saw it.”

 

 

It better be.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided not to follow the book about Haymitch falling off the stage at the Reaping bc I needed him to see what happened when Effie pulled out Peeta's name. And yes, Effie Trinket just caused a causal loop in the temporal paradox which according to wiki is - 'time travel that occurs when a future event is the cause of a past event, which in turn is the cause of the future event.' Go Effie. 
> 
> Also, majority of my headcanon involves Plutarch approaching Haymitch, not the other way round. But haymitch has been to the future and he knows that Plutarch will be in the future. A Gamemaker he's friendly with? A Gamemaker will be a good inside man so it makes sense in Once Upon A Future for Haymitch to do the approaching. 
> 
> A/N: This is the last chapter, supposedly, but I've decided to do an epilogue of them meeting their past selves. Like I explained on tumblr, I feel that the story should come full circle by having that meeting. I know it's unfair to tell you in Chapter 9 that this is the last chapter and then tell you there'll be an epilogue. I'm sorry! When I planned the story, i didn't intend to have an epilogue but it seems appropriate now. 
> 
> Please leave a review and let me know your thoughts! What do you think about the way their r/s progress or if you were surprise by the reaping? Anything at all~ :))


	11. Epilogue: Moving Forward

**Epilogue: Moving Forward**

Haymitch never noticed when exactly he fell in love with her. He never stopped to analyse the depth of his feelings for her. He knew though in District Thirteen that he couldn't picture a world without Effie in it, and he wanted her back next to him. He wanted her where he could see her and keep her safe.

Those few weeks of him in District Thirteen while Effie was held as a political prisoner in the Capitol nearly drove him over the cliff. He faced all his demons and his thoughts, and he sat through the nights fearing that Effie could be killed with a sober mind and it terrified him.

The regret burrowed deep in his heart at having asked Beetee to destroy the watch years earlier. Haymitch was desperate enough that he _begged_ Beetee to reinvent the watch for him. _It would work_ , he had said, trying to convince the older victor. All he needed was two trips; to the past and back again. If he could get to the moment minutes before the arena exploded and get Effie into the hovercraft then she'd be safe.

Except that they were in the middle of a war. Beetee's resources and time were stretched thin. To make it worse, District Thirteen monitored everything and he could not have gotten away with reinventing the watch without someone in Coin's administration knowing.

"She _will_ make it, Haymitch," Beetee insisted. "The photograph… That's evidence enough."

That photograph had a permanent home in the breast pocket of Haymitch's grey uniform. He no longer kept it between the pages of an old book but close to his heart, taking it out at night to look at it and wishing with every fibre in his being that it would come true, that the future would play out the way he had seen it which meant it also became his worst fear.

"What if she doesn't?" Haymitch retorted. "The future isn't set in stone. This," he waved the old photo, "could be just one of the realities of the future. What if it isn't mine like it was for Mr. Abernathy? My reality could be her coming back to me fucking dead because I did nothin'. Just – I _need_ the watch."

But Effie Trinket made it to District Thirteen. She was alive but broken.

Effie was a fighter and he was convinced she managed to stay alive out of sheer will and stubbornness which was her defining trait so he shouldn't really be surprised. Effie didn't disagree with him but according to her, she had the future to hold on to and keep her going.

Haymitch never let her far from his sight. He went as far as to accommodate her so that there would be room for her in the small bed in his compartment. Beetee who shared a compartment with Haymitch didn't truly mind since he spent most of his time in Special Weaponary.

"I – I don't think I would have made it if we had not travelled into the future," she spoke softly, breathing in the scent of his skin.

"Yeah? What's that mean?"

"I want – It gave me hope to know that I will have a family," she told him, "with you. I know now what Mrs. Abernathy meant by my darkest moment and I've emerged through it. I've been through the worst of it. It will only get better now," she insisted. "I know you didn't leave me behind intentionally. I _know_ you didn't. You've been trying to keep me safe all these time and I – I don't blame you, Haymitch."

"Should have done more," he mumbled.

"You didn't know I was going to be taken. None of us did."

Haymitch tightened his hold on her and she pressed her nose against his neck. "I don't know what I'd do if I lose you."

The words were spoken so softly that Effie almost missed it.

"You won't," she hummed. "It will be a brighter future, Haymitch. Finnick and Annie are getting married. Peeta is damaged but we both know he will see through it. We'll be there to help him. Our kids will have children of their own and we... We'll have a daughter and we'll be happy. I have been counting down the years. I held that hope in both hands and I am never letting it go."

He believed her because he wanted it just as much but life had a habit of throwing him a curve ball. When Finnick died, they were both in a state of disbelief. _But he's in the future. He's supposed to be in the future. There was a Finn who helped Beetee. He can't be dead._

The fear crept into his heart once more, a nagging constant anxiety that _his_ future wasn't the same as Mr. Abernathy's.

In the following months after the war ended, he returned with Katniss to District Twelve. Effie chose to stay in the Capitol.

"This ain't how it is. You live with me in Twelve," he argued moments before he left. "You've seen the future, Effie!"

"I can't leave Peeta behind, Haymitch. Be reasonable. You take Katniss home. I will follow in a few months."

"I don't want you out of my sight," he growled.

"I know you worry constantly about me but I am fine. I will be safe – nothing will happen. Everything will work out. I will bring Peeta home. I promise. I _promise._ "

Peeta's recovery took days and weeks and months, and in his paranoia, Haymitch thought Effie would never make it Twelve. The country was being rebuild as was the Capitol, and she would see nothing appealing about Twelve.

"I am _not_ messing with the future, Haymitch," she snapped at him.

The constant argument they had on the phone was wearing them both down.

"Look, I get it okay? I get that someone's gotta be there for Peeta and I'm glad it's you, I'm fucking glad it's you. It's just..." He pressed the heel of his palm against his temple. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too," Effie breathed out. "I want to be there with you more than anything but please, Haymitch, I am growing tired of trying to convince you that the future will unfold the way we saw it. This," she bit her lip and Haymitch could picture her hesitating, "obsession you have about the future... It's unhealthy. We shouldn't put too much - "

"Obsession," he scoffed.

"Yes. Because you won't let it go. You're so consumed with needing the future to be exactly the way it is. It's not healthy, Haymitch. I'm worried."

"Yeah, I know," he grumbled. "I – I carried that damn photo with me for years, Effs, and somewhere along the way, I've accepted it. I've accepted that that's how it's gonna be for me."

The birth of Annie's son came at the right time because Effie didn't know how long more Haymitch could go on thinking the future was compromised. They met at District Four and the sight of Effie with a baby in her arms struck him silence.

"Did you name him yet?" Haymitch asked.

Annie nodded. "I'm calling him Finn."

Effie's head snapped up at that to see Haymitch staring at her.

"Finn," Haymitch released a breath, recognising the name. "That's who they meant."

"Who meant what?" Johanna asked.

"Oh, you sweet darling," Effie smiled and nuzzled her nose on the boy's cheek. The baby slept soundly in her arms. "You're going to be important to some people one day."

With Finn's birth, everything slowly fell into place. Effie brought Peeta home, and Haymitch kept her in his bedroom for days doing nothing except to share lazy kisses and the occasional sex, and showed her how much he missed having her around.

Peeta and Katniss grew together. When the bakery was set up, Peeta asked their opinion for a name to which Haymitch shrugged.

"Mellark's Bakery," Effie answered. "That ought to do."

"I thought you of all people would come up with something fancy," Peeta teased.

"I'd thought so, too, but with new people moving here to Twelve, it's easier to place the owner to the establishment. It will be good for business, don't you think?"

In a way, the future took out some of the surprises. Haymitch found out she was pregnant in an unconventional way. He stumbled upon knitted sweaters which were too small for the occupants in the house and too small for Katniss or Peeta. It clicked them and he walked into the living room, holding up the yellow sweater.

"Is it happening?" he asked breathlessly, nodding towards her stomach. "Are you – Is it happening, sweetheart? I'm forty-eight, that's when we she's – "

"Yes," Effie answered simply without looking up, the needles clicking furiously against each other. Haymitch stood by the doorway, unable to move until she slowly set her apparatus down and raised her head. "Yes, I am."

Haymitch released a breath and sank down on the sofa, staring blankly at nothing.

"You sure you're pregnant?" his brows knitted together. "You sure? You did a test? Went to the clinic?"

"I'm absolutely certain. I'm two months along," Effie informed him. She got up from the armchair and walked over to the sofa, lowering herself until she was seated on his lap. "It's her, Haymitch, it's our baby girl."

"Guess we don't have to go find out 'bout the gender, yeah?"

Two months before Aria was born, Haymitch started a fire. He was sure she already knew but he began explaining about Twelve's toasting to Effie just to mask the erratic beating of his heart.

"You get what it means, right?" he fixed his gaze on her.

"It's a marriage ceremony."

"And?" Haymitch prompted.

Effie huffed. "Why would you make me say it?"

"I'm going to marry you now," Haymitch told her.

"That is hardly romantic. Shouldn't you ask me properly?"

"Do you want to or not?"

"Still terrible," she deadpanned but took the bread from him nonetheless.

They were married not because there was any shame to be had in Effie carrying his child, in fact, he thought she was very proud of it and so was he. That was _his_ child in her womb. He married her because he wanted to and because it felt right. She was his.

Each time the subject of Effie's pregnancy became the topic of conversation, Haymitch could often be heard insisting that his baby girl would look exactly like her mother, a declaration that earned snickers from Plutarch and Beetee.

"Are you still worried about the future?" Effie asked one night.

"Yeah, 'course I am. Who isn't? But," he exhaled, "it's not 'cause I'm worried it won't be like what I saw. I wanted the family I saw Mr. Abernathy has and I think…. We're getting there. We're getting to that point."

"We are," Effie agreed and smiled. "Aria is going to be with us in a matter of weeks and our family will be complete."

The future did not prepare him for fatherhood. Mr. Abernathy warned him of late, sleepless nights but nothing else. Still, he thought it was worth it to lose sleep. There was an indescribable joy and pride to be able to calm Aria down from her crying fit the moment he picked her up from her cot. Effie always had a smile on her face with Aria in her arms and he could watch them both for hours.

It was little Finn with his new camera who snapped the snapped the photograph that Haymitch had taken with him when he left the future. Haymitch had been sitting on the sofa with Aria on his lap, watching the girl. Effie was beside him when Finn came forward and took the photo. When the photograph was developed, Effie placed it on the mantel piece.

"For your past to find," she grinned at him.

Johanna became Aunt Jo to Finn and Aria. Plutarch and Beetee became their uncles, too.

For years afterwards, Haymitch was content with his life. They were still plagued with nightmares and a part of them would always be tainted by the war and the things they had seen and done but Aria healed and helped them in ways the girl could not even begin to fathom.

At times, when he looked at his little girl, he couldn't picture her growing up in the condition he did, couldn't imagine the hardship and fear of the Games in his daughter's eyes and he was glad for that. The world Aria lived in was the world he had fought for, it was the world Effie went through torture to have.

A few weeks after Aria's eleventh birthday, during a winter night, the young girl skipped into the living room wearing the sweater Effie had worn when they returned to their regular timeline. Haymitch did a double take when he saw what his girl was wearing.

"Why are you lookin' at me like that?" Aria frowned.

"Nothin' – never seen you in that before. Went shopping did you?"

"Mama gave it to me. It's kinda old," she tugged on the sleeves with a pout, "but it's warm and comfy."

Folding her legs underneath her, Aria curled next to Haymitch who brought his arm around his daughter without a word.

"You don't like it?"

"It's fine," the girl said in a tone that said otherwise.

"Your mum had this with her for years," Haymitch explained. Aria was stubborn but she would always understand if someone sat her down to explain. "It's an old sweater, yeah, but she's been lookin' forward to givin' it back - givin' it you," he amended quickly, hoping Aria didn't notice the slip up.

"Why is she all excited to give me her old sweater? That's just weird, daddy."

Haymitch chuckled and dropped a kiss on her head. "Everything's weird to you. Why's that?"

"Dunno. What's so special 'bout this sweater that made Mama excited?"

"It weathered through time."

"Now _you're_ being weird," Aria crinkled her brows. "I don't know what you mean."

"Yeah?" Haymitch laughed. "If you wanna know how important it is to her, after the war ended and we went back to the Capitol, that old sweater was the first thing she looked for in her apartment. Not her other clothes or her wigs or her jewelleries, it was that sweater. I stood there and watched her search for it thinkin' to myself that if the sweater ain't there, it might just be the last straw that might break her. She went through so much shit but she held herself together for me, for Katniss and Peeta but everyone's got a breaking point. If that damn sweater didn't make it through, it would devastate her."

"How come you didn't help Mama searched for her sweater? Seriously, daddy!"

"Really? That's the only thing you got from my whole story?" Haymitch frowned.

"You never help to look. You always make me search after my missing stuffs all on my own," she complained. "Remember how I spent two hours looking for my maths textbook last week?"

"That's to teach you not to misplace your things."

"Maybe you're just lazy like Mama always said," the girl grinned.

"Don't be cheeky," Haymitch elbowed her lightly.

"This isn't like the rest of Mama's other clothes, though," Aria mused, back to the topic of the sweater once again, "it's not _that_ pretty. Not like something she usually wears."

"Told you it's special. You look after it. Might need it in the near future or somethin'. You never know."

Haymitch pointedly ignored the confused look Aria tossed his way.

In the years that follow, Haymitch and Effie watched as one event after another followed the path towards the future that they knew. Willow was born, followed by Rye. Haymitch spotted grey hairs and the soft, gentle aura that Mrs. Abernathy had, became more pronounced in Effie. She was still a force to be reckoned with, strict with her manners and the disciplinarian in the house but she was also the one Johanna, Annie and Peeta sought advice from.

Without any of them realising it, the day came when their paths crossed with the past. Effie had woken up in the morning, saw the date and froze. In an attempt to calm her nerves, Haymitch suggested that they treat it like any other day, and do things they normally would.

It was easier said than done because the arrival of his past-self was at the forefront of his mind throughout the morning. It would mark the third time he met himself from varying timelines; the first time was when he travelled into the future, the second when he returned and watched himself argue with Effie, and today would be the final time.

It was still as surreal as ever even now as he stood in the shadows watching his and Effie's past-selves valiantly trying to hide themselves and when he stepped forward, it was comical the way his younger-self's first reaction upon seeing him was to push Effie back protectively.

"Should we shake hands?" Haymitch offered just to throw the young man off.

They seized each other up. The young Haymitch was frowning, a reaction to the infuriating smirk on his face, no doubt.

Haymitch swept his eyes over his younger-self. _I look terrible,_ he noted.

His past's physical appearance was surprising to him. He supposed that was because the memories of the state he was in before Effie became an integral part of his life had dulled over the years. The smell of liquor permeated the air and it bothered him. There was a time when he wouldn't even have noticed if he had spilled a drink on himself.

 _Aria can't see him. She'd be ashamed of the person I was,_ the alarming thought crossed his mind. Aria held him on a pedestal and to her, he was _her_ hero and he didn't want the girl's opinion of him to change. Telling her of the children he murdered to win the Games in order to get back to his family and the tributes he lost was one thing, seeing him was another and at thirty-one years old, he wasn't at his best.

"Let's not shake hands, then," Haymitch shrugged and turned his gaze towards the young-Effie. He took her hand in his and placed a kiss. "Effie Trinket," he grinned, "charming as ever."

The look of alarm on Effie's face - _Trinket_ , he corrected because it was easier to separate his wife from the woman in the past that way - made his grey eyes twinkled in amusement.

_Oh, this is going to be fun. I should get Effie in on this._

As politely as she could, Trinket retracted her hand. "We shouldn't be talking. Haymitch said that … I mean there is the butterfly effect…"

His past-self used that distraction to survey his surroundings. His eyes darted every which way in a calculated manner, planning an escape route and trying to figure a way out.

"If you know to expect us today then tell us how to get home," his younger self demanded.

Haymitch raised an eyebrow. His younger-self was so much more brash and aggressive, and rough around the edges. His tone was clipped and confrontational, and Haymitch finally understood the reason behind his older-self's infuriating behaviour thirty-five years ago. Despite his outwards indifference and lackadaisical attitude, the thirty-one years old Haymitch was wound tight; suspicious, wary and cynical. It was easy to irritate him.

_Like a hornet's nest._

"Why are you in such a rush, _kid?_ " Haymitch teased and snickered when the younger man predictably snapped back.

If there was one thing he wished he could do, it was to be able to record all of their reactions for his sole amusement. When they saw Effie approaching, they stared and when Effie suggested that their younger-selves address them as Mr and Mrs. Abernathy to avoid confusion, he swore he thought Trinket might faint.

"I think we all had enough excitement for the night," Effie announced, resting her hand on his lap as a warning after he had slammed the younger Abernathy against the wall for the insult on Aria. "Let me show you to your room."

"What made you marry the Capitol escort?"

Next to him, he could feel Effie tense suddenly. She had not heard anyone refer to herself as such for years and to hear it again from him sent a shudder running down her spine. Haymitch covered the hand on her lap with his and squeezed it lightly.

"Are you alright?" He dropped his voice to a whisper when they led their past-selves up the stairs towards the guest bedroom.

"I'm perfectly alright, Haymitch," she smiled reassuringly at him. "I – Should we give your younger self a sleeping bag? I think we have one. Or, really, we can put him up in the attic. I'm sure Beetee wouldn't object when he arrives. Besides, that Haymitch will be sharing a compartment with him in any case in District Thirteen. Consider this good practice. I have no idea why Mr and Mrs. Abernathy had us slept in the same room together previously."

"They were being meddlesome, remember?" Haymitch replied. "Guess we gotta be, too. Fact is, sweetheart, I want to see how they deal with having to share a room. Besides, he doesn't know you've cleared out the attic and it's now habitable, yeah? You think they're gonna make out like we did?"

Effie threw him a look. "You're conniving. Very well, the guest bedroom it is."

"Hey," he nudged her gently, "we gotta make sure they end up together, right?"

"Let us hope it works because I quite like being married to you."

XxX

Haymitch was half-propped on the bed, listening intently.

"I hope you know it is rude to eavesdrop."

"Ain't my damn fault if they're arguing so loud that we can hear them, is it?"

"Let's just go to sleep. Leave them be. They'll know how to work it out themselves," Effie said.

"Sure they do. Kissing and making out is a way," his face split into a grin. "Think I should tell them that?"

"Leave them alone," Effie insisted. "We shouldn't interfere so much."

"Yeah, well, see, you're a lot of things, sweetheart, and boring's one them," he paused, waiting for her to argue but Effie had lived with him long enough to learn to ignore his teasing. "That Haymitch is really somethin', Effs. It's easy to push his buttons, as easy as you. I should know, yeah? I've been in his shoes and Mr. Abernathy did it to me. I think it's time for the tables to - "

"Don't be childish. There's only one child in this house and - "

 _"Then get your future-self. He's two doors down,"_ the young Effie Trinket could be heard saying _. "Mr. Abernathy's nice."_

"Oh, looks like someone's got a crush on sixty-six years old me. I told you that you did. You can't deny it now, sweetheart."

"You are being absolutely infuriating. Stop this at once," Effie snapped but she couldn't help the flush that had spread across her cheeks.

Haymitch raised an eyebrow. "He was sweet on you, no? Mr. Abernathy... Easier talkin' to him than it was with me back then."

"And you were jealous of him," Effie tossed it back at him. Haymitch snapped his mouth shut. "I thought so. Do you still want to have this conversation or shall we move on?"

"Yeah, fine, we're not talkin' about it but point is, sweetheart, I am him now. I'm sixty-six and that's a twenty-five year old you in that room, crying and scared. I got to show her that that kid in there ain't all that bad, right? He's going to look out for her but I got to turn on my charm."

"Oh, please, you are as charming as a dead slug," she threw the words back in his face.

"I charmed some sponsors, didn't I?"

"You did," Effie gave him a soft smile and patted his chest comfortingly.

She leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his lip.

"That's what I'm talkin' about. She's got to see that I can kiss you like this," he captured her lips again giving a warm, gentle kiss that would have send their young-selves in a state of confusion to see that he could be tender when he wanted to. "And like this," he whispered against her lips as his fingers coiled on the nape of her neck, deepening the kiss until she was left flustered and breathless.

"She's supposed to fall in love with _that_ Haymitch," Effie pulled back gently, "not you. She's not supposed to be in love with the idea of who that Haymitch will be. She's not supposed to be in love with the idea of _you."_

"Right," Haymitch frowned. "Yeah, of course."

"Good," Effie beamed at him.

"You – That's not how it was for you, yeah? You weren't ... I mean - "

"No, Haymitch, when we travelled into the future, I admit, I do like Mr. Abernathy. He gave me hope, he showed me the man you can be if I try to be a friend to you instead of … being otherwise. I wasn't in love with the idea of marrying a man who would one day care for me. You weren't going to care about me if I didn't do anything, would you? No, I fell in love with you slowly, throughout each passing day. I fell in love with you each time you tried to keep me safe. I fell in love a little bit each time you touched me and kissed me," Effie smiled and then she leaned to whisper in his ears. "It's you I love."

"Yeah," he hummed. "It's a good thing you went for the watch. It showed us something, didn't it? We would have gone on being so blind 'bout each other, gone on forgetting that there's more to you and to me than just the drunk and capitol escort."

Falling in love with Effie Trinket didn't happen through a single trip to the future. Falling in love with her wasn't like jumping from one timeline to another; it didn't happen in an instance, it was a passage of years that began with the future.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end of this time-travel au. Thank you so much for those who read Once Upon a Future, and thanks too to those who faithfully leave reviews! I had a great time and so much fun with this verse and I hope you did too :)


End file.
